Mimi at Midnight
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Something horrible happens to Mimi and no one can seem to make it better. No matter what, things keep going from bad to worse. has some rather strong scenes. CollinsAngel, MimiRoger, MaureenJoanne, the whole shebang. And Mark...well, Mark. Pretty AU.
1. Oh My God

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

"Collins? Angel? It's Mimi, I—I need to come in, I really do, please open up, I'm—"

"Dear god, tell me that's not Mimi yelling at us to let her in," muttered Collins. Angel, who was lying on top of him, took her tongue away from Collins's jaw, bit her lip, and sighed.

"Yeah, it's Mimi. I gotta go let her in, baby, she sounds—"

"C'mon, Angel, she's fine, just stay," Collins said softly, kissing Angel's neck and collarbone. Angel probably would have stayed without any more urging if Mimi hadn't cried, "Angel, please, you gotta let me in, I'm not joking, this is serious!"

"Damn it, go and get her out of here as fast as you can," Collins grumbled as Angel reluctantly slid off of him. Pulling on a muscle shirt, Angel stumbled through the dark apartment, mentally cursing Mimi for interrupting what had started to become a _very_ promising time with Collins. Reaching the door, she fumbled for the lock, faintly surprised to hear what sounded like scratching on the other side. Was Mimi that desperate to get in? Angel started to feel a little worried. She located the lock, twisted it and heard the satisfying clunk of the bolt sliding back. She grasped the doorknob and pulled, the door swinging open.

"Hey, Meems, busting in on someone in the middle of the night isn't really that cool a thing to—" Angel stopped in mid sentence and just stared at her best friend. Her mouth hung open, and she felt like she was looking at a horror movie version of the Mimi she knew.

Mimi's face covered in black bruises and scarlet cuts, some of which still dripped slow drops of crimson blood. Every other bare patch of skin that Angel could was injured and abused in the same way. Her clothes, especially the coat she used so much, were ripped and stained with what Angel hoped to god wasn't blood. One of her arms was bent at a strange angle, and her hair was wild and freakish, like something out of a Frankenstein show. A ring of dark bruise marks went around her neck like a hellish necklace. Worst of all, Mimi's eyes had the look of a crazed, injured wild animal. They weren't Mimi's eyes anymore: she had disappeared from the large brown orbs.

"Oh my god—oh my fucking god, what the—Mimi, oh my god." Angel was babbling, horrified. She only stopped when Mimi nearly collapsed into her arms. The Hispanic woman's knees buckled and she stumbled forward, falling into Angel's chest. Angel wrapped her arms around her friend's torso and prayed that her own legs wouldn't give way. Straining, she half-carried, half-dragged Mimi into the larger room known as the "living room". She laid Mimi down on the red sofa there, trying to be careful of her bent arm.

"Collins, get out here!" Angel cried, rushing the kitchen to get a glass of water for Mimi. As the water rushed into the cellophane cup, she heard a shout of surprise as Collins discovered Mimi on the couch. She rushed back in to find him hovering over Mimi, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, practically wringing his hands. The eyes that turned to meet her were wide and frightened.

"Angel, what the fuck happened here?" Collins asked her, but she was already sitting beside Mimi, helping her friend drinking from the cup. Mimi gulped the water down through dry lips, spilling some onto her face, where dried blood turned it murky brown. Angel mopped her face with the bottom of her muscle shirt. It was like torture, to see Mimi like this.

"Angel…sorry to burst in on you like this," murmured Mimi, her eyes rolling back into her head. For a moment, Angel and Collins were afraid that she was lapsing into shock or something. But then her eyes blinked open again, and she seemed to struggle to stay awake.

"It…it was a private job," Mimi said softly, and Collins and Angel leaned in, both as scared as they had ever been before. "Extra tips and money…for a special dance alone. He was…a rich guy. Big hat…nice clothes." Angel grasped Mimi's hand and squeezed, trying not to pressure any particularly bad spots. Collins put a hand on Angel's shoulder unsteadily; he seemed completely unhinged by Mimi's appearance.

"There were like…a million bottles on the table. Loads, and he was laughing…really, really loud. So I started and he…he got…bad." Mimi shuddered and seemed about to black out, but Angel squeezed her hand and again and leaned in close.

"Mimi, chica, listen to me. Did this guy hurt you like this?" Angel was breathing heavily, her back tense. Slowly, Mimi nodded and whispered, "And there were other things…hurt like hell. He grabbed me and…and then I just stopped being me. It was bad, Angel. It…" Mimi really did lose conscious now, her eyelids falling shut and her head lolling to the side. Angel didn't move from her spot over Mimi until Collins gently pulled her back and hugged her close, just embracing her from behind. They stayed like that for moment, just absorbing that one of their best friends had been beaten up badly and probably raped in the process. Angel felt like her mind was swirling down a toilet: she just couldn't grasp it. Instead, he hung onto Collins's arms and took several deepbreaths, trying to calm down. Collins himself felt surreal: this was too horrible for him to completely comprehend.

Finally, Angel shook herself and pulled away from Collins. She took Mimi's hand and examined the cuts and bruises on it. Then, her voice steady but dull, said, "We've got to tell Roger and Mark and the girls, we can't just leave her here until morning. You go call the loft and Joanne's place. I'm gonna try ot clean her up a little." Collins, sensing that Angel was trying her hardest to keep calm, squeezed her arm and got up, moving over to the phone. Angel went into the kitchen and soaked a rag in cool water, her hands shaking under the faucet. Then she turned and went back to Mimi, where she sat beside her friend again. Angel started bathing her friend's face, trying to clean the cuts and dried blood. Mimi made a whimpering noise, like a baby, and shifted, her stranegly bent arm hanging off the couch.

"Baby, I called Mark and Roger and they're on the their way. Mo and Joanne are coming too." Angel nodded, and Collins crouched beside her as he watched her gently wipe Mimi's cheek. "She's gonna be okay, baby. We're gonna help her, and she gonna be okay." Collins touched Angel's arm, and Angel felt some small comfort in that. But the horror of that first glimpse of Mimi, that first thought of, _Oh my fucking god_, still sat solidly in her mind, like a block of cement.


	2. Arrivals

"Angel? Collins?" Maureen's voice sounded from the doorway. Collins, who had been getting another cup of water for Mimi, dropped the cup on the counter and sped to the door, realizing too late that it was unlocked already.

_BAM._

"OW!" Maureen had flung open the door just as Collins was about to put his hand on the knob. It sent him flying backwards, landing with a _thud_ on the ground.

"Oh my god, Collins, are you okay?" Maureen hurried forward, looking worried. Behind her, Joanne walked inside, glancing around warily. Maureen knelt beside Collins, hands fluttering uncertainly over his face.

"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine," Collins said, his voice high and nasal. With one hand, he covered his probably broken nose. With the other, he grabbed Maureen's arm and pulled himself up, eyes watering with pain. Joanne handed him a tissue from a pack in her pocket.

"Thanks," he said, holding it to his nose. "But guys, come here, you need to see her." Collins turned and led the way into the living room, trying to ignore the intense pain in his nose and to focus on Mimi.

"I don't understand what's so bad about—oh my god!" Maureen stopped and stared at Mimi, her eyes wide. Joanne gasped and clutched Maureen's arm so hard that she began to cut off circulation. Mimi was propped up on pillows by now, and the compresses that Angel had been using had woken her up. Right now, Angel was helping her drink the last few drops of water in the most recent cup. Wincing as she raised her arm, Mimi gulped down the water, the black marks on her throat pulsating as she swallowed.

"Oh Christ, Mimi!" Maureen was beside her in a second, one hand reaching out to take Mimi's. Angel grabbed her before she could do any damage to Mimi's fragile body, and gently guided Maureen's hand to Mimi's shoulder, where the skin was relatively uninjured.

"Hey Mo, baby," said Mimi hoarsely. Joanne, her eyes huge, stood by Mimi's feet. She seemed unable to look away from her friend.

"Joanne, are you okay?" Mimi asked, trying to move around to get a better look at Joanne.

"Mimi…who did this to you?"

"I'm not sure, but it's okay, Jo, I don't need—"

"No, you do need! I'm a lawyer, and it's my job to make sure that monsters that do things like this don't get away with it!" Joanne sat on the armrest of the couch, breathing heavily. Angel put a hand on her shoulder, and she grasped that hand, squeezing it. Collins, who by now had refilled the cup, entered the room. He handed the cup to Maureen, who clumsily gave it to Mimi. She waved it away, closing her eyes and letting out a breath.

"Jo, listen, you've gotta—" Mimi was cut short by a bang as the door slammed open. Roger charged in, his face wild. Mark, looking frightened, hurried in behind him.

"Mimi!" Roger ran to the couch and crouched beside her, almost knocking Maureen down. Mimi smiled faintly as Roger took her hand and pressed it to his cheek, trying to believe that she was ok. She tried to slide closer to him, and he leaned down.

"C'mon, you guys, let's go to the kitchen." Collins, helping Maureen to her feet, led the others into the kitchen, leaving Mimi and Roger alone. They clustered around the small table, unsure of what to say or do.

"Man, that's unbelievable that someone would do that," whispered Mark, his hands clenched into fists. Maureen nodded and sat down, grabbing one of Joanne's arms for comfort. Collins sat Angel down in the other chair, his hands gently rubbing her shoulders. Angel looked shell-shocked, like a survivor of a tremendous battle.

"I know, and I think that we're gonna have to do something that none of us want to do," said Joanne grimly. The others turned to stare at her.

"What are you talking about, baby?" asked Maureen.

"We're gonna have to take her to a hospital."


	3. There Has To Be Another Way

"What? Joanne, you know Mimi won't go there, she's afraid that—" Maureen paused and looked at the others, willing them to interrupt her before she had to say the truth. When no one did, she sighed and went on. "She's afraid that they'll find out about the smack and everything, and that they won't let her go. Mimi won't go to the hospital, and you know it."

"We don't really have a choice, do we?" said Mark dryly, clenching one hand. "I mean, you saw her. That arm might be broken for all we know, and I'm willing to bet that some of those bruises and cuts are worse than they look. This could get serious if—"

"It's already serious." Angel's voice sounded dull and monotonous. She was staring at a spot on the floor, focusing on it to calm herself down. Mark tuned to look at her, but he didn't say anything.

"Mimi's had problems before. But never like this. This—this is worse than anything else. And we have to do what helps her most, even if she doesn't want it." Angel looked up, and her gaze was stony. Collins squeezed her shoulders gently and opened his mouth, but Roger walked in just before he could talk.

"Mimi's asleep now, said she feels a lot better. I didn't want to leave her alone, but…" he trailed off, looking at the faces of the others. "What? What's wrong?"

"Roger…we're gonna take Mimi to the hospital." Maureen said it, and he stared at her.

"Huh? Why? She doesn't need to go, she's already feeling better, and it's just—"

"Roger." Angel's face was still grim, but her eyes worked their way past his. He gazed at her for a minute, then turned away, gripping the back of a chair.

"There has to be another way to help her get better."

"No. This is what we have to do. Are you gonna help us get her there, or will you deny that she needs to go at all?" Roger wouldn't look at Angel. He took a breath and squeezed the chair, knuckles whitening. Finally, he made a low sound in his throat and straightened up sharply.

"Let's go." He walked back into the living, followed after another few seconds by Joanne, Maureen, and Mark. Angel made to get up too, but Collins stopped her.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked, hand on her shoulder. She looked at him, face like a statue. Then she spoke three words.

"If she is." And turning around, she went into the living room.


	4. Stay Away

"Mimi? Honey, wake up." Maureen knelt beside Mimi, gently shaking her with one hand. Mimi stirred and her eyes opened a crack. Then without warning, she let out a shriek of horror and twisted away from Maureen, brown curls falling wildy over her face. Maureen stumbled backwards and fell, eyes wide with shock. Mimi, her face a mask of terror, scrunched herself against the back of the couch, flattening her body and breathing hard.

"Stay away! Stay away from me!" Mimi's voice was high and painful, like a child pleading. Maureen and Joanne, who had come in behind her, stood staring at the young Hispanic woman. Mark and Roger both froze, their faces stunned.

"What the hell--Mimi? Mimi!" Angel had entered the room, and her face went from annoyed to surprised to worried in point three seconds flat. Mimi stared at her and through her, eyes open yet not truly seeing.

"No, please no, not that!" Mimi was whimperng now, and she slwoly curled into herself, trying to become as small as possible. Angel, hands out in front of her like she was trying to quiet a spooked horse, slowly stepped towards her friend.

"Mimi...it's Angel, ok? Everything's fine, you're okay, don't be scared..." Mimi was silent, one eye peeking at Angel from underneath her arm. Very gently, Angel reached out and touched her shoulder.

"Get off me!" Mimi screamed, pushing Angel away. Huddling on the couch, her eyes were empty as they gazed around the room, like those of an insane person. Angel looked at her friend, what she had been reduced to. She felt like throwing up.

"Mimi, it's okay, we're not going to hurt you. Don't be afraid." Roger now, his face set, stepped towards her. Mimi shrunk back, whimpering, but he advanced, finally crouching in front of her. Very slowly, very gently, he reached out and took her hand, the brown skin and pruple bruises clashing with his pale complexion. Mimi shuddered, but didn't scream. She stared at him, eyes huge.

"It's okay," he whispered, and kissed her fingertips. Slowly, Mimi's muscles unclenched, and she let her legs fall off the edge of the couch. Then her eyes suddenly filled with something, and she leaned back, breathing hard and cradling her bent arm.

"Roger..."

"Shhh, you're okay, you're okay, i'm here..." he said softly, climbing up to sit beside her. Mimi leaned against him, her face pale. Roger kissed the top of her head, then looked up at the others. Maureen was still on the ground, Joanne crouched beside her. Mark stood against the opposite wall, one hand clenched into a fist. Angel was where Mimi had shoved her to, a yard away from the couch. Collins was in the doorway. All of them was staring at Mimi. And the unspoken thought, the thing that they all knew, echoed aroudn the room.

_Something more than just the cuts and bruises is very wrong with Mimi.  
_


	5. Waiting

"Easy, easy," Roger said gently, pulling Mimi a little closer to stop the small vibrations and bumps of the subway from shaking her. Her eyes had stayed closed for a while now, and her breath had become frighteningly ragged. Angel, who sitting next to Roger, ran her hand slowly through the cascade of tangled brown hair that flowed from Mimi's head off Roger's arm. Mimi was hurt, so, so hurt. And Angel was scared. Angel was well and truly scared.

Across the subway car, Mark sat next to Joanne. Maureen leaned her head on Joanne's other shoulder, and played with her jacket sleeve. Joanne sighed and put her arm around Maureen.

Collins, who was sitting next to Angel, squeezed her hand. She looked at him, then leaned against him, other hand still stroking the brown locks of hair. She loved Mimi's hair, so long and wild and beautiful, perfect for the free-spirited young woman. She used to play with it when they were together, just randomly wrapping a few strands around her finger or combing it out until Mimi asked her irritably to stop. But Mimi never really wanted her to stop. And now, Angel just wished that she could run her hand through the long brown hair forever.

The choppy PA system choked out the stop, and the six stood up, Roger cradling Mimi in his arms. Together, they moved from the train through the subway station, many looks and double takes directed their way. They ignored them and moved out onto the streets.

"All right, I think it's this way," said Joanne, pointing down the street. Indeed, a little ways down they saw a building that was most definitely a hospital. As they started towards it, Roger tripped over a misshapen piece of sidewalk. He stumbled forward, regaining his balance and holding Mimi all the tighter. But it had jostled her bent and now swollen arm, and she moaned pitifully. Angel hurried forward, trying to check her over, but Roger just walked faster, his face set in determination.

The hospital seemed peaceful, and the bohemians felt like everyone was staring at them as they approached the front desk. The woman receptionist said without looking up from her book, "My I help you?"

"Um, yes…she came home like this last night, and we don't really know what happened. Um…" Roger didn't really know what to say. The woman glanced up quickly, but nearly dropped her book when she saw Mimi's condition.

"Oh my…Dr. Phillips, please come to the main lobby, Dr. Phillips, the main lobby." She spoke into the PA, making them all jump. Almost instantly, a man in hospital scrubs with a white coat over them came walking through a pair of double doors.

"Anna, what seems to be—oh my god, what's happened here?" he asked, staring at Mimi. Roger turned away a little, as though to shield her from his gaze.

"She came home like this, in the middle of the night…She works as a dancer in a club, and we think from what she said that…that, um…that she was raped as well as beaten." It was Collins who said this, and the doctor nodded briskly.

"She needs to go to a facility immediately. Would you kindly come with me, sir?" he said, gesturing fro Roger to follow him. Roger looked uncertainly at the others, but followed the man, through the double doors, disappearing like a fish into the mouth of a whale.

"When will she be out?" Angel asked the receptionist, her voice dull. The receptionist, looking sympathetic, shook her head.

"I'm sorry, sir, I can't tell you that. If you want to take a seat in our waiting room, you'd be welcome to wait for your friend." Angel nodded and walked towards the small group of chairs in one corner. The other followed her, uncertain.

Angel sank into a seat, her head in her hands. Collins sat beside her, slipping his arm around her shoulders. Maureen and Joanne huddled together, and Mark sat between on their left. No one spoke.

It was a waiting game.


	6. Don't You Dare

"Guys…I've been thinking." Joanne's voice sounded small in the long silence that had settled onto the bohemians. Angel, Collins, Mark, and Maureen looked up sharply, surprised. Joanne paused, then continued.

"It sounds stupid that I'm thinking about this, I know, but I guess it's cause I'm a lawyer…see, when I asked Mimi about who did that to her, she got all defensive. And I've seen enough cases like hers to know that when a victim gets defensive about the person who hurt them, they usually…know something about the attacker." The others stared at her.

"So…you're saying that Mimi knew the person who did that to her?" Mark sounded dubious. Maureen clutched Joanne's arm.

"Yes, and more than that, she was trying to keep it hidden. It was someone who she didn't want anyone else to know about, someone who she wanted to keep out of her life."

"And last night…Mimi said the guy who hurt her was rich. He had good clothes and all that…that was when she had her guard down. But who does she know...?" Collins's voice petered out as they all thought of who this mystery villain might be.

Then the penny dropped.

"Oh my god…I'm going to kill that bastard," Angel said, her voice low and threatening. She started to rise from her chair, but Collins pulled her down.

"Angel, calm down. We don't know for sure that Benny did it—"

"Don't we? Who else would have done that to Mimi, who else that she knew and that she wanted to keep away and that was rich? God, if he was as drunk as I've seen him before…that motherfucker, I'd bet my life it was him." Maureen's nostrils flared, and her hands gripped the armrests of the seat so hard they turned white. Joanne nodded gravely.

"There is ample proof, even without what Mimi might say after she starts to recover. After all, Benny—"

"Jesus Christ, can you guys stop it for just one minute? Please!" They all turned and stared at Mark, whose head was in his hands. Very slowly, he looked up and surveyed them all, glaring.

"Mimi's been attacked, probably raped, we don't know what's going to happen to her, and all you people can do is try to pin the blame on Benny? Yeah, maybe it was him, but right now, who cares! I'm all for beating the crap out of whoever hurt her like that, but until Mimi's okay, what matters more to you: her survival, or getting revenge on Benny, when there's a chance he's innocent? I mean, do you even care about her?" Mark's outburst shocked them all. But then slowly, Angel rose from her seat.

"Don't you dare say that I don't care about Mimi. Don't you _dare_." Angel's face was white, and her voice sounded like it was chipped from stone. Mark stared at her, and she gazed right back, her eyes piercing his. Collins, Maureen, and Joanne were frozen, like people waiting for a bomb to drop.

They didn't have to wait long.

"Angel…I didn't mean to say—"

"But you did, Mark, you did. Mimi's my sister, she's closer to me than almost anyone, and don't you even start to think that I won't be living hell on Earth if she doesn't come out of this okay. God dammit, don't say anything like that again, or I swear I'll make you take it back. Just shut up, Mark, because you don't get it. You can't. And don't try to say you didn't mean what you said, because you fucking meant it, and I know that. Like I said, just shut up." And Angel sat back down, her face stony and her movements stiff. Mark stared at her, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. Maureen, Joanne, and Collins did the same. Angel ignored them all, her gaze never leaving the floor.

This was Angel's problem. She tried and tried and tried but in the end it was obvious: she loved too much. She loved too much and too hard, and when something happened to someone she loved, Angel couldn't take it. She cracked at the edges and couldn't bear the strain, couldn't bear the weight. It was too much.

"Guys, guys!"

"Roger!" Roger was sprinting out of the double doors. Running to them, he looked around with giant eyes, breathing hard and fast. They sprang up and gathered around him, hands on his shoulders.

"Is she okay? What's wrong?" Maureen asked anxiously.

"Well, the doctors say she's gonna make it. Her arm's broken, and some of those bruises and cuts are more serious than others, but on the whole she's gonna be alright." Maureen let out a breath and wrapped her arms around Joanne, who rested her head in her hair. Angel stood still for a moment, then leaned back against Collins, her limbs suddenly shaky. Mark passed and hand over his forehead and blinked hard.

"But…" The others looked back at Roger as he started to speak again, his face grim. "They say that the way she acted…you know, when we tried to come close to her, that's a result of rape. And they…they…" He had to stop and clear his throat. Mark put a hand on his back.

"They said that Mimi might get pregnant from this. And that they don't know if she's ever gonna be the same way again, you know, with touching people and everything. I…oh god…I just can't believe it." Roger put his head in his hands, breathing loudly as he struggled not to weep. Mark and Maureen silently brought him to a chair, where he collapsed, elbows on knees and face buried in palms. Maureen pressed her face into Joanne's shoulder, and Joanne stroked her hair, her own face pale. Mark began to pace, feverishly criss-crossing the small area. Collins embraced Angel from behind, half-thinking she would break away. But she didn't Instead she rested her head against his chest and breathed deep, eyes closed. It was all too much…

They all clung together and drifted apart at the same time, pain and horror at this terrible turn of events swimming around their heads. All they could do was hold each other tighter and hope that this nightmare would be over soon.


	7. It Wasn't Him

**sorry for the short chapter! i had a limited time span, but i really wanted to update, so here you go! More coming soon! luvvies!**

**-Panda**

"Mimi? Honey, are you awake?" Angel spoke softly as she entered the hospital room. When she said that she wanted to visit Mimi alone, no one had objected. Probably because they wanted to talk without her biting their heads off like she did with Mark. And besides, they knew how much she loved Mimi.

"Angel? Is—is that you?" Mimi's voice, small and wary, came floating out of them dimness. Angel advanced, closing the door behind her. The room was dusky, with just enough light for her to make out her best friend's shape, lying thin and still on the hospital bed with one lumpy spot that was probably a cast on her arm. Angel moved slowly towards the bed, finally sinking into a chair right beside Mimi's torso. Leaning forward, she grasped Mimi's hand gently, aware that the bruises and cuts were still painful.

"How you feeling, girl? Not your best, right?" Mimi chuckled softly and gently squeezed Angel's hand. The IV cord that had been lying on her arm fell and touched Angel's. Angel winced.

"Nope, I wouldn't say I'm feeling like having a big day out or anything. But Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna be okay, don't worry. It's gonna be alright." Angel tried to smile, but tears that she hadn't allowed herself to shed before were welling up, and it was all she could do to keep them down. She started to lean closer to Mimi, maybe to whisper to her or something, but a sharp intake of breath made her pause.

"Don't come any closer. Please." Although she knew she shouldn't, Angel felt stung as she straightened and moved her body a little ways from Mimi's. After all, Roger carried her and that was all right. Still, at least she could hold Mimi's hand. That was something.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I really wanted you to be with me, all of you. But right now…" Mimi drew in a shuddering breath, and Angel could see her wide open eyes even in the dimness.

"Right now, I just can't do it. Something inside starts screaming when ever people get too close. I'll work on it, but like I said, right now…isn't a good time." Angel nodded, aware that her friend probably couldn't see her. Then, struck by a thought, she leaned in again, careful not to come too close.

"Mimi…you don't have to say a word about this if you don't want to. But the others…they think they know who attacked you. They think it was Benny." Another sharp intake of breath. Angel felt Mimi's hand stiffen in hers.

"Angel, I told you, it was—"

"They don't believe that, Joanne especially. And frankly, honey, I don't either." Mimi stared at her, eyes bright in the almost lightless room. "I don't want to force you to say anything, but I think we need to know. At least, we need to know if it was him. Because I think that they—and me," she admitted, "might do something we'll regret unless we know whether it was him or not. So if you can…" Angel trailed off, waiting for Mimi to speak. The silence stretched into fifteen seconds, then thirty, then a full minute. Finally:

"It wasn't Benny."

"Mimi, I—"

"Angel, I swear to god, it wasn't Benny." Angel let out a breath and shifted in her seat. Mimi sounded like she was telling the truth. Still…

"Can you tell me who it was?"

"No." Nothing more than that. Mimi feel silent, and Angel sat there for another five minutes, one thumb running across the top of Mimi's hand, just glad that her friend was alive.

It was only when the doorknob turned and Roger entered that Angel realized she and Mimi had not broached the subject of Mimi's possible pregnancy.


	8. Psychological

**Hey! Sorry, I know the action is moving slooooow, but I promise that it will pik up really soon! Thanks for all the awesome reviews, and I love you all to pieces!**

**-Panda**

"Coffee, anyone?" Joanne appeared beside the bedraggled group, toting a flimsy paper-pulp tray laden with cellophane cups of coffee.

"Yes, _please_." Maureen reached up wearily for a cup. Joanne handed her one and continued to pass out the others to Collins, Mark, and Angel. Roger refused the cup she held out to him.

"C'mon, Roger. It'll help." Joanne gently pushed the coffee at him, and he grudgingly accepted it. The six were sitting in the same small group of chairs, which they had moved closer together into a sort of huddle. Roger had barely finished his visit with Mimi when a bunch of medical staff had swooped down, hustling him out and briskly telling them all that it would be a while before Ms. Marquez could have any more visitors.

Everyone had expected Maureen to throw a fit, but she didn't. Everyone had expected Joanne to badger the nurse with questions about Mimi's condition, but she didn't. Everyone had expected Mark to fiddle endlessly with his camera. That one actually did happen.

Now it was more than an hour later, and the group was sitting tiredly in their little cluster of chairs. Mimi had arrived at about 12:30, and the shock of awaking up so early was beginning to show itself. Now that Mimi was in the hospital, the bohemians were being forced to sit and wait. Finally, the sleep loss started to come into affect.

Maureen was scrunched up on her chair, chin resting on her knees, eyelids drooping and fluttering upwards every five seconds. Mark, his camera still in his hands, stared at the wall, glasses slipping farther and farther down his nose. Collins leaned backwards, his head resting against the wall and his eyes struggling vainly to stay open. Angel was sitting with her legs crossed Indian-style, chin plopped on her fist, elbow propped up on her knee. Roger had collapsed into his chair, legs splayed out across the ground and arms crossed loosely. Joanne, after distributing the coffee, sat heavily in her chair, holding her cellophane cup to her lips.

For a while, the only sounds were people sipping coffee and the usual sounds of a hospital: low voices, feet on plastic tiles, the squeak of gurney wheels, the illegible mumble of the PA. Finally, Roger crushed his empty cup and threw it towards the trash can ten yards away. It bounced off Maureen's head.

"Hey, watch it!" she said angrily, glaring at him, Roger glared back.

"It's only a cup, don't get so goddamn worked up!"

"_I'm_ worked up? Are you crazy? I—"

"Shut it!" Collins exclaimed in a firm voice, looking back and forth between them. Roger glared for another second, then hunched back into his chair. Maureen crossed her arms and leaned back, her face stormy. The stress was getting to them all; fuses had been shortened by miles.

"This is insane," muttered Mark, rubbing his eyes. Maureen grunted. More silence, broken only by Joanne slurping the hot coffee. Then:

"She seemed okay. Not worked up or anything…like she just tripped and fell. Calmer than me, anyway." Angel's voice was soft and emotionless. Her expression didn't change from the blank one she had been wearing for the last hour, but she still spoke. The others turned to look at her. All except Roger, who stared at the ground.

"Angel…you don't have to—"

"This doesn't seem to really happening. It's like some nightmare that I walked into and I just can't find the door out. Mimi…Mimi's life could get so fucked up from this and there's not a thing I can do about it. That's what hurts the most. That for once, when she really, _really_ needs me…I can't do a thing." Angel put her face in her hands now, elbows resting on her knees and shoulders moving up and down with heavy breaths. No one spoke. There wasn't really anything to say after that.

Finally, after an eternity of waiting and shifting and coughing and unbelievably disgusting hospital coffee, something happened. A nurse, dressed in the appalling floral coat and scrubs that all nurses seem to be obsessed with, came over to the group, a clipboard in one hand.

"Excuse me; are any of you waiting for a Mimi Marquez?" Six heads snapped up immediately, and six faces stared at her. Roger nearly catapulted out of his chair, shoving Joanne's chair aside to get to the nurse.

"Yeah, all of us, what's the deal, can we see Mimi?" The nurse backed up a little, looking frightened. Roger took a breath and said more calmly, "Yeah, we're here for Mimi. Is she okay?" The nurse let out a breath and checked her clipboard, frowning.

"Ms. Marquez has been undergoing analysis and treatment for the last hour or so. Our tests so far are more positive than we could have hoped; she's a quick healer, it seems. That broken arm and several other injuries are more serious than some, but in all she'll by physically alright in a matter of months." Roger didn't relax; instead he leaned closer to the nurse.

"And…is she pregnant?"

"There's really no way to tell that, sir, not so soon after possible impregnation. We can do a test in a couple weeks; until then we have no way of truly knowing. And there, um…there is the matter of the other problems."

"What? What other problems?" Roger's hands were clenched into fists now, and everyone else was wide awake, watching the nurse like lions staring at an antelope. The nurse looked uncomfortable, but she obviously knew that there was no way Roger was letting her get away now. She cleared her throat and glanced back down at the clipboard.

"Ms. Marquez is displaying the signs common to abuse victims. She won't allow others to come within a certain distance of her, and she's having a very hard time with physical contact. Basically, Ms. Marquez has developed a psychological fear of approach and touch from other people. It's very common, as I said, and therapy sessions are strongly recommended." Roger shook his head slightly. No way could any of them pay for therapy. Behind him, Angel bit her lip and wondered, _how could Mimi let me touch her hand, then? Was she keeping herself from screaming the whole time?_

"So can we see her?" Maureen asked, standing up. The nurse looked at her clipboard again and frowned.

"Ms. Marquez is not allowed visitors until the doctors clear her from intensive care. She's still hurt very badly, even if most of the injuries will heal quickly. I would bet that you'll be free to visit her first thing tomorrow."

"It _is_ tomorrow," grumbled Collins, heaving himself up from the chair. The nurse, looking slightly nervous now that more of them were standing, shrugged.

"If—if you're willing to wait, sir, I'll make sure that someone comes and tells you exactly when you can see her."

"Oh god, more waiting," groaned Maureen, sinking back into her chair. "I just want to see Mimi, for god's sake, what's so hard about that? Anyway, Angel and Roger went in before and—mmmf!" Joanne had slammed a hand over her mouth. The last thing they needed was the nurse knowing Angel and Roger had snuck into Mimi's room (even though at least someone knew, since the doctors had burst in on Roger).

"Yes…well, all right." The nurse hurried away, casting a strange look at the muzzled Maureen. Collins fell back into his chair again, and Roger stood there, watching the nurse walk through the double doors. Then he, too, sank back into his chair.

"I am so, so sick of this," muttered Mark. Once again, Maureen grunted.


	9. Waking Up

**yes, short, i know, but i had to have it! the big thingy is coming next chapter, so be on your toes! love to all of you, and THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! they make me veeeeery happy...cookies for you all!**

**-Panda **

"Uuuuuuuhh…Angel, please tell me you aren't getting up this early."

"Of course I am, Collins, I've gotten up at this exact time for the last two weeks. Anyway, today I've got to get there earlier."

"Why? What's worth waking me up like this when I had to grade six thousand papers last night _and_ we didn't come back from visiting Mimi until late? What, I ask you?"

"Mimi's getting the results of her pregnancy test today." At this Collins lifted the pillow he had slammed over his head and stared at Angel, who was pulling a shirt on. No drag today; speed was the key element, and lacing up sneakers simply didn't take as long as putting on makeup.

"Today? Really?"

"Yeah, I know, it seems like forever…anyway, I promised Mimi I would get there early. You don't have to come though, honey, I know you were dead on your feet last night."

"No, Ange, I want to be there, you know I do…hey, is everyone else coming early too?"

"Nah, just Roger. Mimi said that she didn't want a huge fuss or anything, she'd get them when she'd get them. But you can—"

"No, Angel." Collins swung his legs out of bed and stood up, walking over to Angel and putting his hands on her shoulders. She put down the shoe she had picked up and looked at him. "You and Roger should be the ones there. We'll all come later, you know we will. But I have the feeling that you two need to be the ones who are with her when it happens." Angel reached up and took hold of his forearms, as though she were steadying herself.

"It's okay with you?"

"I think it's the best thing to do. We all love Mimi, but you're like her sister, and Roger…well, Roger is Roger." Angel smiled and leaned forward, resting her forehead on his chest. He could feel that she was taking deep breaths. Her resolve had weakened for a moment.

Ever since that day, when they had all first been allowed in to see Mimi, Angel seemed to have become some kind of Superman. She spent all day with Mimi, talking and listening and even laughing at times. She hardly needed any sleep, and the depression of before seemed to have melted away, replaced by a strong desire to stay calm and to help Mimi in any way Angel could. Although the others were happy that she didn't seem so pained anymore, they could sense that underneath the strength, Angel was still scared. She was still hurting from what had happened to her friend.

Mimi had recovered quickly, like the doctors said. Most of her buts and bruises were considerably smaller; Mimi was always a fast healer. Her arm remained in a cast, and she seemed to have broken a rib and bruised several others. Still, they were all mere physical problems that would heal in time. The real injuries lay deeper.

Mimi was acting abnormally cheerful and positive, a trait that surprised her friends. Talking to her, you never guess that, if someone came within a foot of her now, she screamed and scrambled back from them. You would never guess that if someone touched her in anyway, she began to cry helplessly and shiver violently. You would never believe that every night the lights in her room were blazing because she couldn't stand the dark. You would never guess that Mimi Marquez hadn't been able to bear the feel of glass on her skin since weeks ago.

You would never guess.

Angel tried, she really did. She sat in a chair moved back from Mimi's bed, talking louder than normal so Mimi could hear her. She brought things that she had to gently toss onto the bed so Mimi could take them. It seemed easy. But it wasn't. Angel, who loved to touch people, who had always been able to get as close to Mimi as she wanted, like sisters, was hurt worse than ever. She couldn't keep Mimi safe; now she couldn't even touch her.

Angel finally pulled back from Collins and sighed, leaning down to put on her shoe.

"Thanks, honey. Mimi is feeling pretty rough right now, but you should definitely come later. Okay?"

"Yeah, all right. I'll come a little before noon, how about?"

"Sounds good. Now, I'm—"

"Angel?" She looked up at him again. His expression was comforting, and he pulled her close for a moment.

"Whatever happens to Mimi, however it comes out…you know it will be okay, right?" Angel had to suddenly blink back tears. She wanted so much to believe him…she buried her head in Collins's chest, trying to force down the fright and the ache. It wasn't like her to suppress emotion…but Angel couldn't deal any other way right now. In the time after, she would be able to…but not now.


	10. Desicion

**Yes, it's short! Yes, it's a cliffhanger! Yes, I'll be gone for two weeks after this! Agh, I know, and I'm sorry! But I PROMISE that the moment I come home, I will update! I swear! Love to you all!**

**Luvvies! And I'll send you all presents from Greece and England! Who knows, maybe one of you lucky ducks will get Idina after I snatch her from Wicked…**

**-Panda**

"Mimi?"

"Angel! C'mon in, girl!"

"Hey, Angel." Roger was sitting beside Mimi already, the chair drawn up as close she could allow, leaning back with his arms crossed. Mimi was also sitting up, leaning slightly into her pillows. She looked less like the horror movie character that she had been before and more like the recipient of a half-hearted gang beating. Her arm, enveloped in a bulky cast that had been doodled on for the last two weeks, was the only really noticeable thing. She looked okay.

But that didn't mean she was.

"How'd you sleep, honey?" Angel asked, walking into the room. There was a split second where she began to head for Mimi to hug her, but then she paused and veered off to sit in the other chair, about a foot from Mimi's side. That much she could handle.

"Okay. _This_ guy got here early and woke me up, so now I'm cranky," Mimi said, pretending to scowl. Roger and Angel laughed. It was wonderful and at the same time slightly disconcerting, Mimi's happy attitude. She seemed to be forcing herself sometimes, trying as hard as she could to be optimistic and light. Angel felt that it wasn't good for her; she needed to express any feelings of fright or depression she might have. But Mimi was adamant, and there was really nothing Angel or anyone else could do.

One thing that neither of them had discussed since that first visit two weeks ago was Mimi's attacker. Her assurance that it wasn't Benny seemed to be the truth, but it was nowhere near the whole truth. No matter what Joanne, who was the best at gently prying things out of people (lawyers have to be) tried, Mimi refused to talk about it. And though the others weren't totally convinced, Angel knew that Benny hadn't done it. Mimi wouldn't hold out like that for an asshole like Benny.

Although, _asshole_ might be a little strong of a word for Benny right now. They had called him and told him what had happened, and ever since he had spared no expense for Mimi. Medical bills, expenses, even a lump sum to cover the pay she was losing by missing work. Even Roger, who made it well known that he had a basic vendetta against Benny, reluctantly agreed that his help had been a _tad_ generous.

"Oh, Mimi, I've never seen you cranky before. Heavens, what will that be like?" Roger joked, crossing his legs. Mimi laughed, and Angel smiled. Roger was holding on, being a rock for Mimi all through this. He was there nearly every day, only leaving when Collins or Mark dragged him to the loft for food and a shower. He too tried to be cheerful; but everyone could see that it was getting to him.

The three of them talked for a little while about nothing in particular. Then, during a brief lull in the conversation, Angel said softly, "Mimi…are you nervous?"

Mimi didn't need to ask what she meant. Staring the opposite wall, she gave a small shrug. Roger made a move to grip her hand, but pulled back just in time. Even he could not touch Mimi.

"Cause you can be. But you don't have to be afraid, girl, because you have us. Whatever it is, we're gonna help you deal with—"

"I've made my decision." Mimi's flat voice cut Angel off. Angel looked at her, surprised. Mimi's face was solemn, and she turned to look into Angel's eyes.

"I know what I'm going to do if…if that happens." Angel saw the look in Mimi's eyes, and she felt her back tense up.

"What?" Roger asked, his voice steady. Mimi looked down at her lap, but when she spoke, she sounded stronger than ever.

"I'm going to have an abortion. I'm going to get rid of it, because I live with a kid, for one thing. I just couldn't do it. And for another…any baby of mine would have AIDS from birth, and I'm not going to do that to someone." The silence after she spoke was deafening.

"Ms. Marquez?" The door opened and a man in a long white coat came in. His eyes looked Mimi over gently, and he gave a small nod to Angel and Roger.

"Good morning, I hope you slept well." She nodded. "I…I have here the results for your pregnancy test. Do you…?" He glanced at Angel and Roger. Mimi nodded again.

"They'll stay."

"All right. Well…"


	11. Shocker

**ha, i lied! or rather, i was severly missinformed. it turns out that i CAN update for another week, even though i have to use these really screwed up English keyboards...they're not REALLY that bad, except i always hit the wrong friggin enter key and ? mark and all that stuff...anyhoodle, i know you all hatedd that cliffie, so here's the next part. it's insane and freakish and if you want to yell at me, that's okay...but i'm a writer. i follow the muse... just get ready for a surprise!**

**anyhoodle, read on! and please don't hate me for this!**

**-Panda**

"Joanne, hurry the hell up...Mark? What's going on?" Maureen, her hair flying around her face and her hand locked around Joanne's wrist, hurried up the hospital corridor. Mark, who was sitting outside on a plastic chiar, rose and ran to her.

"Maureen! Oh thank god you're here, no one will tell_ me_ anything!" Joanne, huffing and panting, wrenched her wrist out of Maureen's grasp and glared at her. Then her expression changed, and she turned to Mark with her brow furrowed.

"Wait...you don't know what the hell is going on either?" Mark shook his head desparingly.

"All I got was some weird-ass call from Roger to come down here as quick as possible. He sounded like he was in huge hurry: he told me to come down as fast as I could and then hung up. I thought someone else might..." Mark trailed off, looking confused. Maureen groaned and leaned back against the wall.

"We got that too...and Roger sounded the same. Do you think it's about Mimi and--"

"Guys! What's happening, where are they?" All three turned to see Collins sprinting up the hall, his coat flapping and his cap askew. Mark shrugged as his friend reached them.

"We have no idea, everyone got this freaky call from Roger, and now...now we don't know, they're just gone. I checked the room and the lobby, but no one's there. And I dunno, it's all..." Mark trailed off, not knowing what to say. Maureen leaned against the wall again, one hand pushing her hair back. Joanne turned to Collins.

"Did you get a call like that?"

"Yeah...did he sound in a hurry to you?" The others nodded. "But if he was in a hurry, why would he call all three of us, instead of just calling one person and asking them to spread the message? And where the hell are they?"

"I'm getting a little freaked out now...especially since this was the big day for Mimi and everything," mused Maureen. They stood there for a second, each feeling a little stirring of nerves and apprehension in their stomachs. Then, just as Mark was about say something, they heard a door open and footsteps. They turned just in time to see someone emerge from behind the corner.

"ANGEL!" Maureen shrieked, the first to make a mad dash for her friend. The others followed close behind her, surrounding Angel at the end of the hallway. Angel blinked and looked around at all of them. She seemed like somehting had hit her hard on the head, her eyes dazed and her manner slow. Collins put a hand on her shoulder, and Maureen tugged on her arm.

"Angel, what's going on? Where are Roger and Mimi and what's happening, what--"

"Maureen!" scolded Joanne, stepping on her foot. Maureen got the message and shut up. Mark leaned in worriedly, and Collins shook Angel very gently.

"Angel...you okay? What's wrong?" Angel stared at him, then took a deep breath and spoke in a hollow voice.

"Mimi got her results. Positive; she's pregnant." Maureen gripped Joanne's arm, while Joanne's nearly doubled inside. Mark clenched his hands in fists, and Collins stiffened.

"But that's not the...the thing. I don't know how they found out; maybe he told them or someone else did or Mimi let it slip or it was some test, but it doesn't matter. He didn't know we didn't know, he didn't know that Mimi _knew_, but he..." She took a breath and colsed her eyes. Maureen squeezed Joanne's arm so hard it turned pure white, and Mark was biting his tongue. Collins took her hand and said quietly, "Who told you what?"

"The doctor told us...he told us who did that to Mimi." Maureen gasped and involuntarily yanked on Joanne's arm. Mark bit down so hard on his tongue that he drew blood, and Collins drew in his breath sharply. It was several seconds before Joanne could unclecnh her jaw and squeak, "Who?" Angel stared blankyl at her and whispered something. Joanne shook her head and leaned in. The others did too. Taking another breath, Angel closed her eyes and whisepered...

"Mr. Grey."

**So there it is! Yell at me if you want...but remember, i'm insecure and sensitive (sniffle), and plus rotten vegetables take forever to get out of clothes...(ducks rotten tomato) hey!**


	12. Kill Him!

**very short, i know...but i have to update, don't i? more coming on everythintg soon, I promise!**

"I! WILL! KILL! HIM!"

"Maureen! Stop it!" Joanne reached around Maureen's waist and grabbed her tightly, restraining her from kicking the wall again. Maureen struggled for a minute, then ripped herself out of Joanne's arms and strode over to the other wall, where she plucked a leaf from the potted plant and started to twist it into little pieces. Joanne sighed and slumped into the hospital chair, hands gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles were white.

"Jesus Christ…I can't believe it, I just can't fricking believe it," muttered Mark, who was pacing by Joanne's chair. She sighed again and shrugged.

"Who could have? I mean, Mr. Grey…Benny's _father-in-law?_ Man, this would go great on some kind of soap opera." She grimaced. Mark shook his head and paced faster.

"At least Mimi's getting an abortion," he said quietly. Joanne nodded.

"Not only would the child be Mr. Grey's, but it would have AIDS…I think that getting rid of it is a very adult thing to do. But I'm not so sure about having it done right now. I mean…right after we all find out…" Joanne trailed off and squeezed her eyes shut. Maureen, who was by now covered in tiny bits of leaf, came over to Mark and Joanne, her face white with rage.

"That fuck…that absolute bastard…that….that…fucking shit, I need something worse to call him!" She started twisting the hem of her shirt in her fingers, stretching it to maximum capacity.

"Maureen, calm down…"

"Mark, you want me to calm down! Are you telling me to calm down so we can just pretend that this isn't true, that he didn't do this to her? Well, sorry Mark, but I can't do that!" Maureen ground her teeth together and was about to storm away when Mark caught her by the wrist and held tight.

"No. I'm telling you to calm down because right now, Mimi needs us as friends, not as avengers. Trust me; I want to kill him just as much as you do." And from the fire in his eyes, both Maureen and Joanne could see this was true. Mark let go of her wrist, but did not stop talking. "But there'll be time for that after Mimi's recovered a little, when she's home and safe. _Then_ we rip him limb from limb. But not before." Maureen stared at him for a moment, then she stopped trying pull away and walked over to the chair beside Joanne. She sank into it and pressed her head into her hands.

"Where are Angel and Collins?" asked Joanne after a moment of silence. Mark shrugged, but Maureen spoke.

"They're out in the lobby; Collins is calming Angel down. She couldn't handle it…man oh man, does that fuck-tard _know_ what he's done to us?" Her voice was muffled and faint. Joanne sighed and patted her back, while Mark resumed his pacing.

"Guys…"

"Roger!" They all turned to see Roger emerging from down the hallway, his face tired and thin-looking. Mark made a run for him, followed closely by Joanne and Maureen. Roger rubbed his eyes and coughed gently as they clustered around him: although he had slept last night, it seemed as though he was horribly sleep-deprived.

"What the news with Mimi? Has it been…?" Joanne trailed off; unable to ask the question she wanted to. She didn't need to bother. Roger answered.

"It's done. As of now, Mimi's not pregnant anymore." Maureen unexpectedly sagged onto Joanne's shoulder: her face was pale and weak. Joanne wrapped an arm around her waist and steadied her. Mark did not let his eyes wander from Roger.

"Roger…the doctor told you about Mr. Grey, right? That's how you and Angel found out." Roger nodded. "Then…what are you going to do? To him, I mean…I guess…"

"What am I going to do to him?" Roger repeated, looking Mark in the eye. "What _aren't_ I going to do to him?"

"Hoo boy," said Joanne under her breath as Collins and Angel appeared behind them.

**there ya go! oh, and for those of who who don't like Mimi getting an abortion...deal with it! after all, why the hell would she want Mr. Grey's baby? and any baby she had would have AIDS...even Mimi wouldn't do that to someone.**

**luvvies!**


	13. Over The Brink

**This chapter was very hard to write. It almost reflects an experience that has made a huge impact on my life, and I might or might not have meant it that way. It might be slightly out of character for Roger, but this is what i wrote. I love Roger, trust me.**

"Roger…"

"Shut up."

"Roger, listen. This isn't the right—"

"I said shut up, Mark."

"I want him dead as much as you do. But you should be with Mimi right now, not going after this guy."

"She's got everyone else. I can be with her for as long as she needs me after this."

"But Roger, what if you get arrested? What if something happens to you? Mimi needs you _now_."

"Mark, if you won't shut up, then go away." Roger walked faster, leaving his friend behind. Mark hurried to catch up with him. He kept his mouth shut.

Roger seemed driven by some force that no one else could understand. His face was set and his skin ashy. His hands were balled into fists, and he strode forward with concrete that was scaring the living hell out of his best friend.

They walked for blocks and blocks, never taking a break. Mark was panting by the fifth stoplight, but Roger never wavered. On and on they went, until finally, the blinking lights of the Cat Scratch Club came into view.

"Roger, you don't even know if he's going to be here," Mark said urgently, catching hold of Roger's arm. "What if you go in and—"

"He's there. I'm going to hurt him for what he did to her, Mark. I'm going to hurt him like he hurt her." Roger tore his arm loose from Mark's grip and walked into the club. Mark sighed and followed.

It was crowded and smoky inside, the noise of drunken, cheering men almost deafening. Onstage, a young woman with frizzy black hair contorted her body in ways that would have put a priest into cardiac arrest. The cages that hung overhead rattled as the backup dancers moved with the beat. Roger gazed out over the crowd, searching for a face he had seen less times that he had seen an elephant. Finally, he started and pointed out over the mass of people.

"There he is. Over there, by the right pole." Mark squinted and saw, through the wafting smoke of cigarettes, a man with graying hair and a fancy coat, sitting at a solo table and offering a bill to one of the dancers. Roger walked towards him purposefully, and Mark tagged behind.

"Excuse me, sir?" The man looked up to see Roger standing there, his face like a mask of stone. Mr. Grey frowned.

"Do I know you?"

"Sir, I think you better come with me." Roger's voice was harder than his face. Behind him, Mark gulped nervously. Mr. Grey shook his head dismissingly.

"I'm sorry, but I see no reason to. Now, I suggest you—"

"I think you better come with me," Roger said again, reaching out and grabbing the throat of Mr. Grey's coat. The man's eyes tripled in size.

"Now, see here, I don't wish to call security, but—"

"This is a rough place. They'll just tell us to take it outside, which is where we're headed anyway. Now, I'll only say it one more time; come with me." Roger jerked his hand upwards, and Mr. Grey gasped. Slowly, fumblingly, he rose from his seat. As he did, one of his feet slipped on a spill of beer on the floor. Mark came forward to keep him from falling so that Roger wouldn't strangle him. However, the moment Mark touched Mr. Grey's arm, Mr. Grey's other hand suddenly arched through the air, crashing into Mark's wrist with force that did not match his dignified old age. Mark shouted and pulled his hand away, clutching his wrist. Mr. Grey aimed another blow at Roger, but Roger grabbed his arm in midair and twisted it backwards. Mr. Grey gasped again, this time with pain. No one in the crowd noticed.

Roger leaned in close to the man, who was panting. "Never touch my friend again, or I might do more than twist your arm. And I'll do more than that gladly, if you make another move like at one." Roger released Mr. Grey's arm. Mr. Grey moaned and let his arm fall to his side.

Without letting go of Mr. Grey's collar, Roger turned and marched through the crowd. Mark followed Mr. Grey, rubbing his sore and actually swelling wrist. He didn't feel right, this wasn't right…He wanted to hurt this guy too, hurt him badly, make sure he paid for what he did to Mimi and for what he had done to Mark himself, but this wasn't the right thing to do…

They moved outside, outside into the cool night air. Mr. Grey was becoming more like his surname every minute, and his breath came in terrified puffs. Mark felt a pang as he realized what this man was; old. But Roger did not see that. All he saw was the drunk who had hurt the person he loved.

Roger led the way into a back alley, dark and dank. When they had gone about fifteen feet back, he slammed Mr. Grey up against the wall. Mr. Grey spluttered.

"Do you want to know why I'm doing this? I bet you do. I bet you think I'm high, or I'm crazy. But I'm not. And I'm coming after you because I have a reason, and you know what it is." Mr. Grey started to interrupt, but Roger pressed his knuckle harder into his neck. From the other side of the alley, Mark felt a twisting in his stomach.

"Don't tell me you don't know. Don't tell me that you don't remember doing that to her, hurting her, rapi—oh, you bastard, you total bastard." Roger was breathing hard, his eyes wild. Mr. Grey was white now, and his whole face spoke of terror. Mark was shaking.

"She was doing what you paid for. And you hurt her like that, you scarred her. Well, I'm going to scar you. I'm going to scar you where it's never going to heal, where you'll have to look at it and feel it and know it forever." Roger's hand went to his pocket, and then, as he drew it out, there was a click and something shone in the dim streetlight. Both Mark and Mr. Grey's eyes bulged as they saw what it was.

A knife blade.

"Scared? You should be. She was. And now, I'm going to make you more scared than you've ever been, by hurting you worse than you've ever been hurt. I'm going to—"

"NO!" Mark launched himself at Roger, tackled him and pushed him into the ground. Mr. Grey slumped against the wall; the knife clattered away into the darkness.

"Mark! What are you doing! GET OFF ME!" Roger roared, trying with all his might to push Mark away. But Mark, usually so lacking upper- and lower-body strength, held on like a prize wrestler, his muscles locking around Roger like an iron vise. On the wall, Mr. Grey panted and moaned, seemingly unable to move.

"Roger, stop it! Mimi wouldn't want this, she would hate you for it, we all would! Doing this to him would make you _like_ him; someone who hurts other people so badly that everyone they love feels it! This isn't right, Roger, and most importantly—it isn't you! The Roger I know would never use a switchblade on anyone! This isn't you!" Mark was screaming from between clenched teeth. Roger was struggling and thrashing like a wounded lion, but Mark held on, used his whole body weight to pin Roger to the ground, pinioned his wheeling limbs to his sides…

"Uhhhh…" There was a strange sound, and all of a sudden, Mr. Grey fell to the ground. For a moment, Mark was afraid the old man had had a heart attack; but then, as Roger drew air to shout again, Mark caught the sound of the man's breathing, and knew that he must have only fainted.

"Let me go, Mark! Let me at him, get off me! Get off me…get off…" And suddenly, Roger wasn't shouting anymore. He was sobbing. Sobbing loudly and painfully, sobbing like his heart was being ripped in two…He stopped struggling, and finally Mark slipped off of him. Roger lay flat on the ground, crying hot, wet tears. Without really thinking, Mark took him by the shoulders and pulled him off the ground, enfolding Roger in his arms. Roger clung to him.

"Easy…Easy, Rog, easy…" Mark soothed, forgetting that a wealthy business man was lying unconscious beside him, forgetting that they might well attracted unwelcome attention with the shouting and crying, forgetting everything except that his best friend was in pain. He held Roger tightly, held him like a parent with a child. He loved Roger like a brother. He was there for him.

"I didn't want to do that…I don't know why I did…I just got confused and angry and all of a sudden the knife was in my hand and I was going to hurt him with it, I really was…but I didn't mean to, Mark, I didn't mean to…" Roger's cries were words, tumbling in a jumble from his lips.

"I know, Rog. I know." Mark knew that Roger was not a monster, he would not hurt another human being like the cold, merciless horror of moments ago.

But love and pain can drive a human being over the brink.


	14. Reporting

**here's another one. this is ahrd fic to write, but i'm trying. i hope its not too bad. and thanks to aspirer for the word castrated. i improved my vocabulary!**

"But where is he? Where did he go? I need him, I need Roger!" Mimi clung to Angel's hands, her face white and her own hands trembling. Angel freed one hand and rubbed Mimi's back soothingly.

"It's okay, honey, he'll be here soon…I think he needed a minute alone. We all did." Mimi sighed and leaned back in the hospital bed, settling onto her pillows. Her giant brown eyes were raw and pained, as though there was something horrible inside her that was growing and growing and growing…and she could not fight it.

The abortion had been hard on Mimi. It can be traumatic for anyone; but for Mimi, both the reasons behind the pregnancy and the abortion were overwhelming. Roger leaving her alone was too much; she was jumpy and scared, and the nausea in her stomach did not help matters. One thing had happened though; her fear of contact with others seemed to have vanished temporarily. Her hands were still curled tightly around one of Angel's as though she was afraid Angel might try to leave her too. Her muscles were tense and her breathing was raspy. She needed Roger, and now.

Maureen and Joanne were sitting on the window ledge in Mimi's room, although the curtains had been drawn because Mimi felt a little more comfortable without the bright sunlight hitting her face. Maureen had wound down from her tantrum a while ago and now she leaned against Joanne, eyes closed. Joanne stared at the opposite wall, one hand gently stroking Maureen's arm. The two of them were also a little overloaded; they had drawn into themselves, where they were slowly healing the pain of the last few weeks.

Collins was leaning against a wall, his head back and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He too was regenerating from the inside; he especially needed it, after helping Angel through her breakdown during Mimi's abortion. Angel was the only one present enough to be with Mimi. Although the others knew that they should be with her too, it was obvious who she really wanted and needed. They would be almost rubbing it in to try to replace Roger with themselves.

"Why did he leave me? I can't do this without him, Angel; I can't go through this without Roger! Get him for me, please!"

"I don't know where he is, girl. Just relax and take deep breaths, he'll be here soon." Inside, Angel cursed Roger with everything she had. Leaving her alone with three new catatonia patients and hysterical post-abortion Mimi; he was going to be paying for this big-time.

"…Mimi? Angel?" Angel turned to see Mark, weary-looking and bedraggled, walking through the door. She clicked her fingers at him, and he walked over to her with a stride that suggested he would rather be curled up in a fetal position.

"Where the hell is Roger? Mimi needs him bad, and I don't know where he's gone to. Get him, damn it!" Mark's eyes widened, and he tentatively shook his head.

"I can't."

"WHAT! You—" Angel controlled herself. She turned back to Mimi, who was beginning to shiver nervously. "Honey, relax. I'm just going to go talk to Mark for a minute, don't—"

"No! You can't leave me either!" Mimi squeezed Angel's hand so tightly that the veins stood out sharply. Angel winced and pushed a strand of Mimi's hair behind her ear gently.

"Ok, I'm not going to leave you calm down, girl. I'll just stay here, you relax." Mimi nodded and leaned back, closing her eyes. Angel whirled back to face Mark, who looked even more tired.

"What the hell do you mean, you can't get Roger?"

"I mean I took him home, because he would have done something bad to himself if I hadn't." Angel's eyes widened. Mark sighed and leaned in close, speaking in a soft voice. Not that it mattered, sine everyone else had been and was completely unresponsive to him since his entrance.

"Roger tried to get Mr. Grey. He…he tried to hurt him bad." Angel frowned.

"You mean…beat him up?"

"No, I mean cut him. Or worse. He had a switchblade, Angel. He was going to use it, I saw it happen. But I just couldn't…I couldn't watch Roger do that to himself or to Mr. Grey. The man may be an asshole, but Roger would start a whole shitload of trouble by cutting him. And…I don't know what it would do to Roger." Angel's mouth had dropped open, and her face was pale. She gasped slightly.

"He was really going to do it? Are you sure?"

"Positive. I jumped him in time and I managed to stop him, though. He was crying and sobbing and…I don't know, he was just shattered. Mr. Grey had fainted, which was good luck. I got him a bottle and hoped to god that he would think he just passed out drunk in the alley where we left him. Then I took Roger home. I know Mimi needs him, but he's in no position to help her." Mark finished talking and stood there, his eyes dull behind his glasses. Angel stared at him in shock.

"Oh my god…I didn't realize that he would do something like that. You were right to stop him, Mark. As much as I'd like to know that Roger at least castrated that son of a bitch, it wouldn't really help anyone in the end."

"Mr. Grey couldn't have anymore kids. That would save the world and lots of women a ton of grief." Angel raised her eyebrows and looked back at Mimi, who seemed to have fallen asleep. She gently stroked the Latina's smooth cheek. Mimi stirred slightly, as though she wanted more of that comforting, soothing contact. Angel looked up at Mark with bright eyes, and he looked back. The two shared a moment that neither would forget. Then they looked away from each other.

"Well, I have to get back to Roger. I'm nervous about leaving him for even this long…" said Mark uncomfortably. Angel nodded.

"Give him…I don't know, give him a hug from me. And tell him that I'm glad he didn't do it. Well…sort of glad." Mark smiled slightly and touched Angel's arm.

"I will." With that, he turned and left the hospital room. Angel watched him go. Then she turned back to Mimi and leaned down, kissing her forehead. Mimi moaned slightly and curled up in the bed.


	15. Nightmares and Insomnia

**new chapter! taran-tara!**

Mimi stirred in the hospital bed. Her eyes slowly blinked open, and she shifted around on her back. The weight of the cast on her arm held one side down, and nudged herself over to the other side of the bed. Bracing her body against the railings next to her, she sat up.

It was night. She was back in her hospital room, surrounded by the blinking lights and faint whistles of the medical equipment. Moonlight and streetlight streamed in through the window, bathing her entire bed in a milky glow. Mimi shivered and drew her legs up against her body, brunching the blankets around her hips.

"A-Angel? Roger? Anyone?" she called in a small voice. There was no answer from the room or anywhere else. Suddenly, one of the tiny blinking lights gave a terrific flash and illuminated the entire room. It was empty; Mimi was alone. She felt a stirring of fear in her stomach, which grew with lightning speed into a squirming pit of terror. Mimi pulled the blankets up to her chin, huddling back against her pillows like a little child. Her large brown eyes were wide as headlights, and she was trembling all over.

As Mimi watched, the light coming in from the window began to morph. The soothing beams of moonlight became hideous, reaching arms, and the yellowish streetlights twisted into clawing, grabbing fingers. They reached for her, snaking their way towards her with horrible slowness. Mimi opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out; she tried to scramble away, but her limbs had locked and would not move. She stared in horror as the arms and fingers reached for her, to grab her and swallow her up…

And then—

_"AAAAAAAAAAH!"_

"Wha? What's going on? Mimi, what's—"

"Get away! Get away from me, don't touch me, get AWAY!" Mimi writhed and shrieked, her arms pinioned to her sides by sheets. Her legs flailed wildly, scoring a direct hit to Roger's chest as he tried to calm her.

"Oof!" It propelled him backwards, and he thumped heavily onto the floor. But Roger sprang back up again and dove for the light, switching it on and immediately casting away the darkness of the apartment. Mimi's eyes snapped open, and she gave one final spasm that sent her toppling off her bed and onto the floor.

"Go away, go away, go away," she sobbed, curling up into a ball, her body still bound tightly with sheets. Roger, who had fallen to the floor again, crawled over to her and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her up to his chest. She pressed against him and shuddered, crying and gasping for breath. Roger rocked her back and forth gently, making soothing noises and stroking her forehead. Finally, Mimi managed to stop wailing, and she relaxed enough to let Roger pull the sheets off of her. But she still clung to him tightly, unwilling to let him go.

"Shhh, Mimi, it's okay, I'm here, I won't let them hurt you…" he whispered, kissing her hair. She only shook her head and pressed it against his chest, trying to lose herself in his heartbeat. Very gently, he lifted her up and tried to lay her down on the bed. She would not let go of him.

"Baby, I just need to get the sheets from the ground—"

"Don't leave me, I don't to be alone, don't leave me," she moaned, arms locked around him. With a sigh, Roger wrapped his arms around her again and lifted her up, lying down on the bed himself and letting her curl up on his body. Her light frame nestled on his solid chest, Mimi managed to drift off to sleep. Her breathing slowed and the shivers of terror gradually ceased. However, every time Roger tried to stop rubbing her back, she would cry out and begin to stir. He would hurriedly stroke her back again and shush her, and Mimi would calm down.

It was four and a half hours after she first woke up that Roger finally drifted into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

"So anyway, I—Rog? Roger, you listening? Roger Davis, are you still alive, man?" 

"…I accept the nomination with pride and dignity, and I'd like to thank my old blankie…" Roger's head dropped onto the table, and he snored. Collins poked his arm and he jerked upright, looking around sleepily.

"Whassup? We being attacked or something?"

"Naw, you just fell asleep for maybe the sixth time today, man," Collins told him. Roger groaned and smacked his cheeks rapidly. It didn't seem to do anything but make his cheeks sting.

"I'm sorry, Collins, it's just…well, Mimi had another episode last night." Collins made a sympathetic noise and looked across the loft at Mark, who was sorting through film reels. Mark nodded knowingly and made a horrible face. Collins sighed.

"Look, man, why don't you just ask Angel to stay with her one night? And you know I'm only saying that because the truth is Angel won't mind. She knows as well as the rest of us do that Mimi is having problems at night and it's killing you. She'd be glad to do it. Hell, any of us would do it, as long as you stop drifting off while you're standing up so we have to catch you every time you fall. I mean, this is what, the fourth time this week? Fifth?" Roger snorted and crossed his arms, his eyelids falling shut of their own accord. He jerked them open.

"Can't be more than three…"

"Don't forget Monday. Or Tuesday. Or—"

"Yes, Mark, thank you!" said Roger crossly. Mark shrugged and scribbling something on a reel label. Collins shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"And anyway," Roger continued blearily, "she's with Angel all day during the week. Angel has enough on her hands." Collins raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, but Mimi doesn't keep Angel up all night."

"That's your job, isn't it?" Mark said innocently. Collins gave him a look that made Mark considered shutting up as a wise choice for the moment. Collins turned back to Roger, which made him groan. Roger had slumped sideway to rest against the wall, and he was snoring lightly. A dribble of drool ran from his open mouth down his chin. Collins leaned forward to wake him up, then decided to forget it. He got up and walked over to the couch. Mark moved a pile of reels aside to make room for him.

"So what do you think? Three days before he cracks?" Mark suggested. Collins sighed.

"I don't give him that much. I mean, the dude is killing himself. He keeps talking about getting a job or working on his music; how's he supposed to do either when he can't even stay awake for more than a minute?" Mark nodded. Collins shook his head.

"This has just been…a nightmare, I guess. You know, ever since that night Mimi showed up looking like she'd been in a gang fight, things have been going downhill. And she doesn't even look that bad anymore; the cast's off, and all the rest of that stuff is fading fast. Why can't she get over this?" Mark snorted.

"I think we have no idea what it's like, Col, so we should just shut up about it. And there is one good thing about this whole deal." Collins gave him a weary look.

"What, pray tell, is that?"

"Roger has completely forgotten about Benny."

**hee hee. what Roger says about the nomination is something i said when i feel asleep in class once. my math teacher heard it and he knew i was sleeping, but he didn't wake me up. he rocks.**


	16. Talks With Old Friends

**this is very short, and it is mostly talking...boring, i know! this is moving slow right now, and i'm sorry. thousands of tests before Hanukah and the like, as you know** **(yes, i am a little jew-girl like Marky. It's fuuuun). but i promise exciting things will happen as soon as i can get to them! if anyone has any ideas for this fic, please send them in! i'd love to hear!**

**-Pandie**

"Oh, Cooooollins…Maaaaaark…Rooooooger…I'm coming up!" Maureen called, hopping up the last few stairs and walking in the loft. Collins put a finger against his lips to tell her to be quiet.

"What? I—ah, Roger. I see. Mimi again?" Mark nodded. Maureen sighed and walked over to the couch. When she was unable to find a place to sit in between the film reels, Mark, and Roger, she sighed and went over to the armrest, where she perched delicately, legs crossed.

"Mo, how'd you know I was here?" asked Collins. Maureen wordlessly held up a freshly put-out joint. Collins grinned and shrugged. Mark rolled his eyes.

"Collins, that stuff kills brain cells, you know."

"And yet, I'm a professor at NYU. Tell me, Mark, how could such a paradox occur?" Collins asked seriously. Maureen stifled a laugh. Mark ignored him and stuck a label on a reel. Collins nudged him.

"What? Are you giving us the silent treatment?" Mark sighed in an exasperated way.

"No, I am not giving you the silent treatment. I'm just…tired." Collins glanced at Maureen, who shrugged. She reached down and patted Mark's arm.

"Well, maybe you should take a break. After all, we all need a vacation once in a while."

"Creation, vacation…" sang Collins softly. Maureen snorted and bopped him over the head. Mark put down the reel he was holding and rubbed his eyes.

"You can't take a vacation from life." Collins stared at him, as did Maureen. Mark looked at them, and for the first time they saw how exhausted the filmmaker looked.

"I mean, I think I'm having a hard time dealing with everything that's going on. Mimi, for the most part, but my film too, and Benny pestering us, and then there's this—never mind." He was suddenly closed off. Maureen prodded gently.

"This what, Mark?" He shook his head.

"I dunno, this feeling that something…is about to go wrong." Maureen and Collins frowned.

"What do you mean?" asked Collins. Mark leaned back.

"I mean that there's this feeling I have that something else is going to mess up. We're just barely starting to recover from Mimi's problems…now we're going to have a whole new batch to deal with. There's no real reason to feel like this, I know…but I can't shake it." Collins put a friendly arm around Mark's shoulders. Maureen shrugged.

"Mark…" said Collins wearily, "we all feel like that sometimes. Trust me. As the prime smoker around here, you know I'm used to paranoia." Mark managed a small smile. Maureen reached out and tousled Mark's hair like an affectionate sister.

"Don't worry, Pookie. We're not going to have another disaster, I promise. Things are taking their time getting better, but they _are_ getting better. It's all going to work out." Mark nodded dully. There was a moment of silence. Then Mark spoke up softly.

"You know…this could almost be two years ago. Before Benny sold out, before Christmas Eve, before Mimi got hurt. It's you and you and me…"

"And Snooze-Boy over there," said Maureen, gesturing over her shoulder at Roger, who chose that moment to let loose with a gigantic snore. The three friends laughed lightly, then became silent. Collins spoke next.

"Mark, would you rather things be like that again? Would you rather that we not know Mimi or Angel or Joanne?" He said the last one without thinking. Mark blushed, and Maureen cleared her throat. Collins rolled his eyes.

"Ok, I can see why you might wish we didn't know Joanne. But come on, she's your friend, man, even if you all have these issues!" Mark nodded grudgingly, and Maureen smiled in a surprised way.

"Pook—I mean, Joanne is your friend, Mark? Really?" He sighed.

"Yeah, I guess…" Maureen squealed and squeezed his shoulder. He smiled ruefully at her enthusiasm. Collins smiled too and continued.

"But anyway, Mark, you can't tell me that you wish we didn't know Mimi. Or that you wish we didn't know Angel." Mark shook his head.

"I don't wish that we didn't know them. But…I guess I'm just nervous. About what's going to hit us next." Collins noogied his head gently.

"Like I said, you aren't the only one."

**aw, i'm sorry to end on that note. but as you all know, i have happier fics going! stay tuned!**


	17. Benny's Propositon

**short, i know, but at least it's an update! this is a rather new i dea i had...lets see where it goes! review your opinion, that woudl help a LOT.**

"Hey, c'mon," Maureen said suddenly, hopping down from the armrest. Collins and Mark looked curiously at her. She smiled and struck a pose. "Like I said, things are getting better. Think about the bright side, Mark. We just have to—"

"Um…hi?" The voice was quiet and uncertain, but it shattered the air. Collins, Mark, and Maureen whirled to see Benny standing in the doorway, tentative. His hands were stuck deep in the pockets of his coats, and a slight sheen of sweat stood out on his smooth head. Maureen's face shifted into a glare, while Mark frowned and Collins gazed unblinkingly at Benny, his eyes betraying nothing of his feelings. Benny sort of shrugged and took a step inside.

"Hey, guys. Um…I was just stopping by…to—"

"What do you want, Benny?" snarled Maureen. He didn't seem too taken aback by her hostility. Instead, he took it in stride. Taking another step forward, he glanced over at Roger and smiled slightly.

"I take Roger's been having trouble sleeping?"

"Maybe that's because Mimi's having nightmares and he has to take care of her. Maybe you should stop pretending that you give a damn and get out." Maureen's anger was potent. She had been rather close to Benny before his split, and her feelings had been hurt deeply. The fact that he'd tried to squash her protest and called the police on her didn't help either. Collins hadn't moved, but Mark stood now, coming to stand beside Maureen. Benny seemed a little nervous. He wiped his forehead and took another step.

"Listen, I'm here because…" He took a deep breath. "I know who attacked Mimi." Maureen gasped, and Mark's teeth clicked sharply together. Collins blinked slowly. Benny looked happy that they hadn't attacked him yet. He took yet another step.

"I know who attacked her, and I want to help. I want to help him pay for it." Maureen looked scornful.

"If you really know who it is, Benny, then you know you'll be upsetting Daddy's little angel if you actually make a go at Daddy." Mark put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off. Benny nodded slowly.

"True…but that's not going to stop me from helping Mimi. I sort of owe it to her…I guess. And anyway, I'm the only one who can really do anything." His words weren't meant as an insult, or to sound condescending, but they tripped a switch in Mark. He pushed Maureen almost roughly out of the way, striding to wards Benny with rage building in his eyes. Benny suddenly looked very regretful that he had taken any extra steps. Maureen and Collins had frozen, watching their friend face down someone who had once been as close to him as they were.

"Benny, you think that you're the only one who make that can make him pay? You think you're the one in charge? Well let me tell you something. He got very close to being cut up by a switchblade, and unless I—unless someone hadn't stopped that from happening, he'd have gotten what he deserved. We've got more power over making him pay for what he did than you think. I don't care what the hell you think you can do, it—"

"Roger went at him with a switchblade?" interrupted Benny, his eyes wide. Mark did a slight double take.

"I…never said it was Roger," he mumbled, subdued. But Benny was already certain.

"Oh Jesus, I can't believe it…how the hell did he pull that off? And how'd you stop him?" Benny was almost eager. Collins stepped in, rising from the couch and walking over to lay a firm hand on Mark's shoulder. In the background, Roger gave a small snore.

"Benny, you don't need to know what happened. Nothing actually went down, we all know that. But that's not the issue we care about right now. You said you wanted to help Mimi. What's your idea?" Benny took a deep breath and wiped his forehead again. The cool, collected Benny was gone, and he was nervous. Maureen came over and stood beside Collins, still glaring at Benny. It was a face off; four friends, three of whom were the betrayed, one of whom was the uneasy deserter trying to negotiate a peace treaty of sorts.

"I've got money…my own now, and enough to hire professionals. Lawyers," he said quickly, seeing the looks on their faces, "lawyers who can bring him down in court." Maureen squared her shoulders haughtily.

"We have a lawyer, and she's perfectly fine. If we wanted to bring him to court, we would have." That wasn't completely true. They had discussed it, but had decided that they didn't have the money, the resources, or the knowledge it required to do something as delicate as this. Joanne volunteered her services full-heartedly, but they hadn't been utilized so far. Now Benny shook his head.

"You don't understand. I can almost guarantee he'll be brought down, with the right lawyer and enough pressure. All I need is Mimi's consent…and yours." He looked earnest, as though this actually mattered to him. "Please. This will hurt him bad, and Mimi…Mimi comes out of it better off than before. She'll be taken care of…"

"We're already taking care of her just fine, thanks!" Mark exploded. Loudly.

"Wha? Was happnin?" mumbled Roger.

**oh dear.**


	18. A Deal

**this is short and really, really weird. i have no idea why i wrote it and the characters may be somewhat OOC, but I have lost my voice completely and so i am past caring for the moment. give me ideas about what to write next if you want. i could use them because my brain is on hold. **

"Oh shit…nice going, Mark," Maureen groaned. Roger stirred and sat up slowly, blinking. Collins and Mark exchanged a look that quite obviously said _Brace for impact_. Benny looked uncertain.

"Wait…what's going on, what's—Benny?" Roger sounded groggy. Benny stiffened. Slowly, Roger stood up and made his way towards the group of four. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, then looked up and glared as his brain focused. The others watched tentatively, unwilling to say anything. Roger shook his head again, and his eyes cleared. The glare deepened as he understood that Benny was actually standing there in front of him and not just a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep.

"Benny…what the hell are you doing here?" Roger seemed a little unsteady. He took a step and his foot slipped. He stumbled forward and was saved from falling only by Collins, who quickly grabbed his arm and brought him up again. Roger got his footing and continued to glare at Benny. Collins did not release his arm; either for support or possible need of restraint.

"I'm here to offer my help. To Mimi." Benny bit his tongue, like he always did when he was nervous. Maureen frowned and opened her mouth. Mark stepped on her foot. Roger had to respond. If any of them should have a say in what happened to Mimi (other than Mimi herself) it was Roger.

"Did anyone ask for it?" Roger snapped. Benny shrugged and edged back a little. It was strange to see him so off, so discombobulated. Usually, Benny was cool and suave, or at least he put on the pretense of being so. The situation now seemed to be throwing him off balance rather badly, and he wasn't able to pull himself together.

"No…but I knew that you wouldn't. You never have."

"There's a reason for that. We don't want it." Roger's voice was sharp. He was very close to taking a lot of the week's stress out on Benny. Maybe Benny knew that, for he took a step back.

"Roger, please, just listen to me. I'm not trying to sound snobby when I say that I can do things you can't. It's true, and I'm sorry if you're insulted, but I can't help that. Mimi's welfare can benefit from this, and I would think that you of all people would be eager to take me up on this kind of offer. I can give her more than you can, and I don't need a switchblade to do it." Roger's eyes flared. Benny gulped. They all knew it—he had gone too far.

The rocker wrenched his arm out of Collins' grip and closed the distance between himself and Benny. The fatigue was gone from his demeanor; his head was clear, and his movements were firm. Collins sent ark and Maureen a look. They shrugged. Roger was unpredictable when he was like this. It wasn't easy to know what he would do…

"You need to get out of here right now. I'm not dealing with this, I don't need to deal with you, so get out. Now." Roger looked scarier than ever before. Benny seemed petrified.

But then he did the bravest thing that any of them had ever seen him do. He looked Roger straight in the eyes and shook his head.

"No. I'm not leaving without doing whatever I can for Mimi. You might not want my help, and she might not…but that's not going to stop me from giving it. I don't care about the problems we have…they aren't as important as Mimi. You don't have to like it or want it. But you're going to work with me on this, and I know why." Roger's mouth fell open slightly. Maureen's eyes were as wide as baseballs. This was some stranger, not the self-centered, haughty, ambitious Benny they knew. That Benny would never have said anything like that little speech. They didn't recognize the assertion in this man's words. It was…weird.

Roger managed a single word. "Why?" Benny squared his shoulders.

"Because you care about her enough to do this to yourself. Enough to go after people with knives and to get this mad at me. Ok, you don't really need a lot of prompting to get mad at me…but you care about Mimi. And you know that she needs this." Roger blinked. His anger had drained away, replaced by something that he wasn't quite sure he understood.

"Benny…why are you doing this?" Mark piped up, finally breaking the silence that had settled. Benny opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, but then shook his head and closed it. Ignoring Mark, he looked Roger in the eyes again.

"So…can you do this, Roger?" Roger frowned. Benny had extended one hand towards him; not an accusing one or a pleading one, but…a hand. He stared at it for a moment. Then, very slowly, he took it and shook.

"But not for you." He dropped Benny's hand as though it was dripping with sewage. His eyebrows knitted with something between contempt and determination.

"For Mimi." Mark, Maureen, and Collins glanced at each other again. They had no idea what had just happened. But whatever it was…things were about to get a whole lot weirder.

**see? Even i have no idea what's going on or what's going to happen.**


	19. Spoiled Brat

**this is a pretty emotional chapter. it's a little hard to explain and...oh, never mind. just read it.**

"What the hell possessed you, Roger?! No, I won't do it! I won't, and I don't care what anyone says! Get off me!" Mimi tore away from Angel's comforting arm and ran down the stairs, slamming the door to the loft behind her. Seconds later, they heard another door slamming.

"I don't understand what's going on," Angel said, her voice controlled. "But I'm going to go see if I can calm her down. When I get back…I want someone to explain this to me." Angel turned and went out onto the stairs. Mark and Maureen glanced fearfully at Roger, who was frozen by the stairs, a look on his face that was just too sad to look at. Collins sank onto the couch, his head in his hands. The loft was horribly silent.

"Damn it…DAMN IT!" Roger shouted, his voice cracking on the last word. He turned and ran to the fire escape, roughly throwing the window open and climbing out in the night air. Although the window swung closed, they could see and hear as he pounded his fists on the railing and punched the wall, finally breaking down into quiet sobs and hunching down on the cold metal platform. Mark leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. Maureen sat heavily beside Collins.

"What is wrong with her?" whispered Maureen. Her words sounded hoarse and disbelieving. "Doesn't she get it? We're trying to help her...he went through hell for her and she just…" Maureen couldn't find the words. Collins sighed and sat up, shaking his head.

"Mimi's scared to death, Maureen. She's just trying to forget what's happened, do you really think she wants a lawsuit thrown into her life?" Maureen didn't know how to answer. Mark ground his teeth together.

"Well, whatever the reasons, Mimi's mad as hell, Roger's on the verge of a breakdown, for all we know Angel is too, Benny's probably filing a case right now, and we're even more screwed than before." Maureen glared over at him.

"Shut up, you make it seem hopeless."

"Isn't it?" Maureen crossed her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't answer Mark's question.

--------------------------------------------

"Mimi? Honey, are you okay?" Angel tentatively opened the door to Mimi's apartment. She didn't see the Latina anywhere. Angel was just inside when she heard a crash, like something made of glass being violently broken. She jumped in surprise and whirled around. She didn't see anybody.

There was another sound; a kind of crunching this time. It seemed to be coming from the bathroom. Angel went to the door and opened it. Mimi was sitting on the closed toilet seat, dully pressing her foot onto a pile of shattered glass. From the looks of it, a green beer bottle. She lifted her shoe and stomped it down again. There was another crunch. Angel bit her lip.

"Mimi, what are you doing in here?" Mimi shrugged and stomped on the glass again.

"I'm sure as hell not taking a crap. And I don't seem to be doing anything that needs two people, so go away." Angel shook her head.

"C'mon, hon, get up. You need to tell me about what happened up there." Mimi snorted.

"No I don't. I don't need to tell anyone anything, so leave." Angel crossed her arms. She'd been through a lot for Mimi, not only in the last month or so but for all the time they had known each other. It was time Mimi went through a little for her.

"I'm pretty sure you just screamed at Roger for trying to help you, even though he's been breaking his back continually just so you can be as happy as possible. Do you understand what that boy's done for you? You have no right to yell at him. If anything, you owe it to him to listen." Mimi looked up and glared at Angel. She rose and faced off with her friend.

"Stop acting so high and mighty, Angel. I have my reasons for doing what I did, and you don't have to know them. I don't owe anyone." She pushed past Angel into her apartment. Angel's mouth dropped open as she felt Mimi roughly shove her aside. After everything they had done for her, Mimi dared to…she had gone too far.

"Mimi, you're acting like a spoiled brat." Mimi whirled around to stare at Angel, her eyes wide. Angel's face was hard, and her eyes flashed. "Roger and I have given you more than you can ever imagine. Not only us…everyone. We've spent time with you, lost sleep for you, done everything you needed and more. Collins and Joanne have lost work hours that cost them a lot. I haven't been out drumming for more than two months. Roger hasn't touched his guitar. All because of you." Mimi's eyes narrowed.

"Are you blaming me for what that man did?" Angel shook her head.

"Mimi, we were glad to do everything that we did. We were happy to do it, because we care about you and we wanted to help you. But what I'm saying is that you do owe us. You owe us a lot. And I don't think it's too much to ask at all for you to even listen to Roger. You know he would never agree to anything that would hurt you more. Trust him and respect him. He cares about you, you know that. We all do. But you're treating us like we have to." Angel's eyes were bright with tears. Mimi couldn't look at her. Slowly, she sank onto the edge of her bed, staring at the ground. The apartment was silent.

Finally, Angel went and sat beside Mimi. Mimi jumped when she felt a comforting arm slide around her shoulders. She turned to see Angel looking at her without anger, but with love. Mimi's lip trembled.

"I know you've been through a lot," Angel whispered. "And I'll always be here to take care of you, chica. But sometimes, you need to take care of me a little. Of all of us." Mimi managed to nod slightly. Then she threw her arms around Angel. Angel hugged her tightly. Both of them felt tears on their shoulders.

**eesh. i got pretty mad at Mimi during this. she's been annoying me. but i'm feeling in need of perking up, so some fluff might appear soon. stay tuned, especially since right now the FF bots aren't working.**

**happy new year, ckickies!**


	20. R C Binstrock

**i am sorry, but this is pretty short. just a pseudo-chapter until the trial...(shrug)**

"Mimi? Are you feeling okay?" Joanne touched Mimi's shoulder gently. Mimi snapped out of the small trance she had been in and nodded.

"Sorry…what's going on?" Mimi had drifted into a reverie of staring at the many certificates on the walls. They were all extremely shiny and complicated. Obviously R. C. Binstrock was an accomplished lawyer. Either that or disgustingly full of himself.

The latter seemed more appropriate.

"Miss Marquez, we were discussing the legal fees," he reminded her. Mimi reluctantly looked back at the man who would be taking her court to case whether she wanted him to or not. He was tall, though not as tall as Collins, and the hair he had left was light brown. He had a graying beard and piercing blue eyes that could easily wring confessions out of any hardened criminal. Benny had assured them that he was the best money could buy. Mimi didn't like him much, and Joanne, who was along as Mimi's legal counsel, didn't seem to either. Still, Joanne knew how to play the game and the people, and Mimi would have gone down long before if it hadn't been for her.

"Mr. Coffin has communicated to you that he will be taking care of the payments," Joanne said, her tone clipped. R. C. Binstrock nodded.

"Yes, I've been told as much. Now, Miss Marquez, _I_ would like to tell _you_ something before anything happens." Mimi eyed him suspiciously. She didn't trust him not to slap her with a subpoena (whatever that was, she had heard the phrase somewhere else before) and be done with it.

"Mr. Coffin has told me the specifics of this case, and first of all I would like to say that I'm very sorry for your mistreatment. What was done to you in unacceptable in this day and age, and I'm happy to take this case if it will benefit someone who has suffered as you have." Mimi nodded slowly. Sounded nice enough…

"Second of all, I understand that you've had very little dealing in court cases. Ms. Jefferson will be explaining most of it to you, but I want to make sure that you know you can ask me anything anytime. I'm here to help you." Mimi smiled now. This guy seemed a lot nicer. It wasn't until R.C. looked down for a paperclip that Mimi glanced at Joanne and saw her sour expression.

Later, as they were leaving the office, Mimi asked what it was about. Joanne laughed dryly.

"Mimi, I've had dealings with a lot of people like R.C. Binstrock. They've learned to be as slippery and kindly as possible so that clients trust them with their lives…and their money. Thankfully, R.C. Binstrock has two things going for him. One, he actually is an amazing lawyer. Two, he's not as disgusting as some I've seen. And he didn't take your hand, that's another thing. Once a lawyer takes your hand, it's all over for him or her being decent." Joanne looked grim now. Mimi arched her eyebrows. Joanne seemed to be reading a little too much into this guy's behavior. He had seemed nice enough…still, Mimi did trust Joanne. She decided to stop thinking about R.C. Binstrock for the moment and start…

…start freaking out about this court case.

-------------------------------

"Wow…so you're really going through with it, huh?" Angel asked with raised eyebrows as Mimi paced back and forth across her apartment.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Holy fuck, it's a stretch from cowering a hospital bed, isn't it?" Mimi laughed dryly and kicked a chair. It rattled on the floor and settled again. Angel sighed.

"Mimi, you don't have to do this is you don't want to…"

"What?! You were the one who practically forced me into it!" Mimi glared at Angel, who for once didn't care. She was tired. She was running down.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"That's not enough right now! This is going to be a disaster and I'm still having nightmares and the last thing I want is to see this guy again, even in a courtroom, and I JUST WISH THAT THIS WASN'T HAPPENING!" Mimi turned and ran down the stairs and out of the building, her tears running unheeded down her cheeks and her eyes crackling with anger.

Angel watched her go without any real effort to stop her. She followed the sound of Mimi's footsteps as they thundered down the steps and onto the pavement. Then she curled up on Mimi's bed, where she was sitting, and buried her head underneath a pillow.

"Angel?...What just happened?" Maureen's head poked tentatively into the door. She saw Angel on the bed and came in all the way, shaking her head. Walking over to the bed, Maureen sat beside Angel and gently touched her shoulder. Angel curled up a little tighter.

"I heard what she said…everyone upstairs did," Maureen said gently. "I'm sorry; you shouldn't have been the only one to get that in the face. But Angel…she's trying, she really is. She just needs time—"

"Which is what she doesn't have." Angel's voice was dull and pained. Maureen rubbed her shoulder and waited for more. "Mimi is running out of time, we all are. Years, months, weeks…who the hell knows? Her and me and Collins and Roger have less time left than you and Mark and Joanne…but we're all going to go sometime in the future, and Mimi doesn't seem to get that. She's just…not _listening_ to me anymore." Maureen heard how badly Angel was hurting. She squeezed her friend's shoulder.

"She'll come around…don't worry, you know Mimi better than any of us. You know she won't let us down." Angel was silent. Maureen sighed and kept on rubbing Angel's shoulder.

**mimi is getting to be a real bitch, isn't she?**


	21. Card Game

**i love poker, even though i suck at it. this is a sort of male-bonding chapter here, i guess. i don't know, i just didn't want anymore depressig, Mimi-bitch-spazfests in this chapter. this is supposed to be the night before the trial at the loft. Angel, maureen, Joanne, and Mimi are god knows where...could be that new Shanty-town by the-no, bad! snap out of it!**

**they just aren't here right now, how bout that?**

"Name the game."

"Five card draw."

"Wilds?"

"Collins, wilds are sissy. Real guys don't need no stinking wild cards to play poker," Roger declared. Collins and Mark rolled their eyes and watched as Roger shuffled the cards, then dealt them out into three separate hands. Outside, rain fell slowly and softly in the smoggy night.

Mark picked his up carefully, glanced at them, and slumped in his chair, letting out small moan. Collins had a perfect poker face on, only marred slightly as he laughed a little at Mark. Roger rearranged a few cards and sighed. He pushed a jelly bean into the middle of the table and said, "Ante up, guys."

"I can't believe we're playing with candy. I mean, didn't we used to do this when we were, I dunno, twelve?" Collins mused, dropping a jelly bean into the pile. Mark added his and sat back, still glaring moodily at his cards.

"Maybe. But hey, I'm not above a little sugar boost every now and then," Roger said, idly popping one of his "chips" into his mouth. "Collins, your bet." Collins studied his cards for a minute, then pushed three beans into the center. Mark sighed and shrugged, dropping three of his own jelly beans down beside Collins'.

"I might as well," he said mournfully. Roger rolled his eyes and met them both, taking out the deck and offering it to each of them. As Collins slid one card out of his hand and took one from the deck, he glanced warily at Roger.

"So, Rog…you done any thinking about tomorrow?" Roger's lips pursed slightly, and he shoved the deck a little too hard at Mark. Mark waved him away, declining to take any cards.

"I'm not even going to bother, I'm so dead. Roger, are y—"

"Look, can we please _not_ talk about the trial right now? All I want to do is play poker, so let's just do that, okay?" Roger snapped, slamming two cards down and grabbing two others off the deck. Collins and Mark glanced at each other.

"I was just asking if you wanted any cards," Mark said softly. Roger's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. Without prompting, Collins slid two beans into the pot. Mark wordlessly met him. Roger shrugged and laid his cards flat on the table.

"I'm out. And…sorry, guys, I'm just a little on edge right now." The two of them nodded forcefully. Collins added another three beans and touched Roger comfortingly on the shoulder.

"It's fine, man. If anyone has something to complain about right now, it's you." Mark nodded again and scrutinized his cards woefully. Then, with a sigh that suggested he was being led to the gallows, Mark chipped in three beans and flicked another one forward. Collins raised his eyebrows.

"Mark, you _do_ know how to play poker, right?" Mark rolled his eyes.

"I'm committing poker-suicide, what's it to you?"

"Nothing, nothing," Collins said quickly, meeting Mark's raise. Then he triumphantly showed his hands, spreading the cards into a perfect fan and slapping them down onto the table.

"Straight! Feels good to be raking in the artificial flavoring, doesn't it?" he chuckled, reaching out to cup the pile of jelly beans and draw them towards him. Mark sighed.

"Fine, fine, you got a straight. Lucky you…all I got were these." He laid his cards down forlornly; three queens and a pair of tens. Collins glanced at Mark's cards, then back at the pile of jellybeans. He pulled a beautiful double take next, his head snapping up to stare at the full house presented to him. Roger was struggling not to laugh. Mark shrugged and pushed Collins' hands away, raking the pile over to the rest of his jelly beans. Collins sat back and glared at Mark.

"You evil little albino pumpkin-head…I am never playing poker with you again." Mark rolled his eyes and punched Collins lightly in the shoulder.

"It's just a game, Coll. And it doesn't work more than once, so come on, let's play again." Collins shook his head fiercely. Roger collected the cards and added them to the deck, handing it to Mark, who began to shuffle. Collins watched for a few moments, then sighed and sat forward.

"Deal me in, deal me in…"

"That's the spirit," Roger said, whacking him in the back. Collins swatted Roger's hand away and sulked. Mark smiled and dealt out another hand. Roger's head came up.

"No wilds?"

"No wilds." Roger smiled and looked back down.

The game went, Collins and Mark continually winning almost every game between them until Roger vaguely bet his last jelly bean on a hand that turned out to have a high card of seven. Collins collected the pot and sighed, shooting Mark a look. Mark nodded and began to shuffle the cards, not dealing but perpetually shuffling. Roger didn't notice; he was looking at some spot on the table, hands idly toying with a safety pin. There was a long silence, finally broken by Mark clearing his throat. Collins took that as a cue to snap Roger out of it.

"Rog, what's up? Come down to earth, will you?"

"Hmm? What?" Roger said, looking up with surprise. Mark sighed and kept on shuffling. Collins leaned forward and laid a friendly hand on Roger's shoulder.

"Roger, your mind's not on the game, we can both tell. Hell, from the way you're playing, it's probably flying around somewhere over Tijuana right now." Roger frowned.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine." Mark shook his head slowly.

"Man, you bet six jelly beans when you had a pair of fours. You are not fine, you're thinking about something else." Neither Collins nor Mark voiced what they thought Roger might be thinking about; it was obvious. He looked away from them and crossed his arms.

"Whatever. I guess I'm still a little sleep-deprived or something. And I've just been thinking…about tomorrow, you know…" Roger seemed to have forgotten his conviction not to talk about Mimi's trial. Collins leaned back in his chair now, and Mark stopped shuffling and began to build a card tower. Roger rubbed his eyes. "I don't know…the thing is that I still can't figure out if we're doing the right thing or not. When I think about it…goddamn it, I just don't know!" Roger exploded, banging the table with his fist. Mark's card tower fluttered to the table top. Roger didn't notice. He only shook his head slowly and stared at his fist as though it had the answer to his problems tattooed on the knuckles.

"Roger, what would you want, if it were you?" Collins asked softly. Roger didn't look at him. "Would you want the trial…or would you just want to let this blow over?" Roger shrugged slightly.

"Collins, I don't know, I just don't," he whispered. Mark started arranging the cards by suit, value, and dinginess. Collins nodded.

"Mimi doesn't know either; at least, I don't think she does. I've seen what she puts you through, and I've seen what she puts Angel through, ands I don't think this is really about the trial at all. It seems to like…well, like Mimi is tired of not knowing what to do. She's tired of being helpless about the stuff she wants to change and being in charge of all these decisions that she'd rather let someone else take care of."

"Collins, you've either been listening to Dr. Phil or you need to lay off the weed, man. Since when did you become a psychiatrist?" Roger snapped. Collins held out his hands as though saying he was unarmed.

"Rog, I'm just saying what I think. You know we all want what's best for Mimi…I'm not trying to pry into what's going on with her or between you guys. I'm just saying what I think, okay?" Collins said. Roger glared at the wall, and the room was silent. Then Mark sighed and packed all the cards together again. He started to deal out another hand. The other two let him. Collins slid six jelly beans over to Roger, who flicked one into the pot. Mark and Collins anted up, and Roger started the bet.

**i say once more...**

**GAH.**


	22. Yet Another Waiting Room

**hey! this is probably the last update for the next week! Poland awaits, and who knows what sort of Internet access they have where I'm going. anyways, hope you like it. Mimi's not so mean in this. huzzah!**

"Are you nervous?"

"Should I be?"

I would be. I am, actually. I didn't sleep all night."

"Join the fucking club. God, just ask for my help with that thing already," Mimi said, raising her eyebrows at the necktie that Angel was struggling with. Angel growled and let Mimi at the Tie That Refused To Be Nice And Give Angel A Break By Just Letting Her Tie It And Be Done With The Whole Damn Thing (it was a special, evil little tie; that's why it had a special name). Mimi expertly started putting the tie in its place by forcefully and heartily tying it. Angel sighed and looked up so that Mimi had better access to the tie.

"I hate wearing suits. I can never get the fucking tie to do what I want." Mimi smiled grimly as she worked.

"Lucky for you, you have me. Little Miss Bucket of Sunshine, right?" She gave the tie one last tug and let go; it hung down the front of Angel's suit, perfectly tied. Angel gazed down at it ruefully.

"You're a girl of many talents. How long until we get called in?" Mimi shrugged and looked around the court waiting room. It was sparsely furnished, with only a few chairs and a sad little sofa. The walls were painted brown, and three paintings of nothing in particular hung on them. Mimi and Angel had been there for an hour; an hour since the prune-faced receptionist directed them to it and told them that the trial would be starting in a short time. R. C. Binstrock was supposedly going over the notes that he had compiled in privacy, while Mimi and Angel were shunted to the side and the others were sent off to wait in the court room. Mimi was there as part of the prosecution; Angel was there to be a witness and Mimi's emotional support, though it seemed that Mimi was a lot more collected than anyone had expected. She had stayed calm and collected throughout the day so far. Angel was pretty damn surprised.

"Soooo…correct me if I'm wrong, but there's not going to be a big panel of bored jury people who decide what happens in the end, right?" Angel asked. Mimi shook her head.

"I think it's just us, him, and a judge. I'm really not sure how it's going to work though. Oh, that's just great, isn't it? I have no clue about how the thing that completes the wrecking of my life is going to happen. I'm such a stupid little…" Mimi sank into one of the little chairs, her hands clasped together with sudden nerves, She looked very different from her normal self; her hair was done up in a high bun, and she was wearing an executive-looking suit that, before a few alterations, had been Joanne's. Her face was flushed. On one cheek, a pale red mark stood out in sharp relief; a scar leftover from her days in the hospital. It looked so small…but it represented so much.

"Hey, now…don't go putting my Mimi-chica down, okay?" Angel said, tentatively setting a hand on Mimi's shoulder. Mimi didn't respond to her gesture, only stared at the floor. Angel sighed and knelt in front of her friend, taking her two small, brown hands in her own. "Mimi, I know that this is going to be hard. You've been through a lot, more than anyone should have to. And I can understand that you want this to be over. But if you just look at it our way…can't you see why this guy needs to be stopped from hurting other people?" Mimi took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. She squeezed Angel's hands almost unconsciously and nodded slowly.

"I guess…I guess if it were you or Maureen or someone like that…I would want this," Mimi murmured. Angel nodded. Mimi sniffed and squeezed her eyes tightly shut for a moment, then let out a long breath and opened her eyes again. "Angel…"

"Yes, honey?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"For being such a bitch. I've just…I've been trying to balance a lot out, and it wasn't really working." Angel smiled and stood up, bringing Mimi with her. She reached out and touched the red mark on Mimi's face as gently as she could. Mimi held back a sob and bit her lip.

"_Usted es fuerte._ Remember that," Angel said quietly. That was all it took. The sob ripped out of Mimi's throat, and then she was crying harder than she had cried since the night that her world came crashing down around her. And just as she had that night, Angel held her close and let the tears soak into her shirt. It was ugly crying; rough, raw sobs, hiccups, Mimi's face screwed up and glistening with wetness. But it was quite possibly the healthiest thing that could have happened to her. She was venting, as well she should. And when it was done and she pulled away to wipe off her face, it was a better, more peaceful Mimi Marquez that Angel faced.

"Oh my god…I have no idea where that came from," she sniffled, using her sleeve to dry her face. Angel raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, c'mon. Mimi, you just had a good, old-fashioned fit. It's perfect for people under stress, so don't try to tell me you don't feel at least a _little_ bit better."

"Well…maybe," Mimi conceded. Then without warning, she started to laugh.

"What? What's so funny?" Angel asked in confusion. Mimi put one hand to her mouth and pointed at Angel's chest with the other. Angel looked down and her jaw dropped.

"You _have_ to be kidding me." Somehow, probably as Mimi had been crying against her, Angel's tie had come undone. It hung, innocent and taunting, in two very definitely untied strands around Angel's neck.

"I am throwing this thing out the window right now, I swear to god," Angel said disgustedly, yanking the tie despondently and holding it out to Mimi in a plea for help. Mimi's eyes narrowed with laughter as she struggled to hold back her giggles.

"B-but there's no windo-o-o-w here," she managed before bursting into almost maniacal laughter. Angel rolled her eyes and wiped at the large wet spot that Mimi's tears had made on her shirt.

"Think they won't notice it if I do this?" she asked, tugging the jacket over so that it partially covered the stain. Mimi, winding down from her hysterics, shrugged and reached out to tie Angel's tie again, pursing her lips to keep from smiling.

"Um, Ms. Marquez? They're ready for you now," said a voice from the doorway. The two of them turned to see the receptionist from before, glaring suspiciously at Mimi's hands where they hovered near Angel's chest. Angel rolled her eyes, while Mimi nodded.

"Okay. We'll be there in a minute." She looked back to the tie, while Angel adjusted the jacket.

"I really, really hate suits…"

"Suck it up. Okay, you're set. Just don't pull on it too much; and no using it for bondage sex with Collins."

"Oh, ha, ha, very funny, I suppose the S&M dancer would know about the uses of ties in bondage sex."

"Damn right. Okay, okay…do I look okay?" Mimi asked, getting serious. Angel looked her up and down. Aside from slightly reddened eyes and small traces of the mascara that hadn't come off, Mimi looked fine. In fact, she looked better than before.

"Yeah, you look fine. The question is, are you ready?"

"No. Never."

_Translation:_ Usted es fuerte--You are strong.

**poor mimi! next chapter is the trial, i'll have it up when i come back. the bondage sex thing is sort of a joke between my friends and me. ah, us and our warped, sketchy minds...**

**bye, chickies! **


	23. Dead In The Water

**A/N:** Shorter chapter here, but at least it's an update! Little CollinsAngel fluff, a break from the more instense stuff. Mr. Grey is completely pissing me off, btw. Welp, enjoy!

* * *

"Court will reassemble at eight tomorrow. For the time being, court dismissed." The judge sounded tired, and the bang of her gavel was really no more than a tap. Mimi slumped in her seat, face-planting onto the table in front of her. Beside her, R. C. Binstrock sighed and closed his briefcase. Then he gave her a little pat on the arm.

"I know things aren't going as well as we'd hoped," he said gruffly, "but they will get better, I promise you."

"Mmmf," grunted Mimi in response. R. C. sighed again, then got up and walked out of the courtroom. Mimi slowly sat up and looked around dully. The judge was just leaving, and so was Mr. Grey. As he and his attorney passed by Mimi, he gave her a glare unlike any she had ever received before. She shrank back, and he continued on his way.

"Mimi…you okay?" Mimi looked over her shoulder and saw Angel, her hands shoved in her pockets. Mimi bit the corner of her lip and slowly shook her head.

"No. I'm not."

----------------

"It was a disaster."

"No, it wasn't a _disaster_."

"Angel, does a comet have to smash through the roof of the building before you admit that the entire thing was a catastrophe?"

"Fine, fine, it went horribly," Angel said, sitting down on the bed. She leaned back and drew her knees up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Collins, who was still dressed, raised his eyebrows and left the bedroom. She heard him walk into the bathroom and start to brush his teeth.

"You know, it's not like Mimi's dead in the water yet," Angel called loudly after a moment or two. There was a spitting sound as Collins emptied his mouth of toothpaste.

"Ang, you saw how those lawyers were. They're paid to do one thing; keep that jackass from losing money. It doesn't matter what kind of case Mimi's got, they're like dogs that get their teeth into something. They won't let go."

His voice floated into the bedroom, and Angel listened to his words before closing her eyes and leaning back. She felt exhausted, and there was a killer of a headache coming on. There was the sound of rushing water as Collins used the sink, and then she heard gargling. It made her smile slightly. She thought that gargling was just plain weird, but he made his case for it by explaining that in enhanced his kissing skills. That was what she needed after a day like this one: a good dose of pure, undiluted Collins. No matter what sort of shit was going on, Angel could relax as soon as she spent time with Collins.

"I think that our guy—the lawyer Joanne doesn't like—did as good a job as possible, though," Collins said. He came back into the room and started to pull off his shirt. Angel, who was already wearing the tank top and pajama pants that she slept in, uncurled from her comfort position and lay on her back. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him as he undressed. He caught her gaze and smiled, taking off his jeans and putting on a pair of sweat pants. The night outside was cooler than previous ones, and it seeped into Angel's apartment (especially through that one window which hadn't closed since the approximate birth of the universe).

"Yeah…I guess so," Angel sighed, bobbing her head wearily. R. C. Binstrock had done all he could, which was considerably more than they could expect. Perhaps Benny had paid more than he said he had, or maybe R. C. was just a better guy than they thought. Either way, he had been able to weather Mimi's case through that first onslaught.

The trial had truly been a disaster. Mr. Grey's stony-faced attorney had devoted four-fifths of his opening statement to basically calling Mimi a hooker, and convincingly too. It went downhill from there, with him questioning everything from her mental, financial and occupational circumstances to her sexual abilities. Mr. Grey sat back smugly the entire time, occasionally shooting poisonous glances in Mimi's direction. Joanne, Maureen, Collins, Mark, Angel, and Roger had all watched from one side of the room, while a considerable number of people had shown up on the "Grey" side. Benny was among them, looking exceedingly uncomfortable as an ashen, unsteady Allison clutched his arm. She too had given Mimi her share of loving looks.

R. C. Binstrock seemed like a swimmer gasping for a breath of air as he tried to defend Mimi. Although he remained calm, Mimi's situation at the time of the assault was so close to what the prosecution had accused her of that his arguments looked vaguely suspicious and more than a little hollow. The judge was obviously leaning towards Mr. Grey, not to mention considering getting Mimi court-ordered therapy. The whole thing was pathetic, and the worst thing was that Mr. Grey knew it. He knew very well what he had done to Mimi, and he got off on getting away with it.

"Look on the bright side," Collins said, climbing onto the bed beside Angel. He took her by an elbow, pulling her into a sitting position and spinning her around so that her back faced him. He started to massage her shoulders, and Angel felt the tension in her body finally start to unknot. She struggled not to grin. God, he was wonderful.

"We know we're right, and Mr. Grey hasn't countersued yet. Mimi might still make it through this." Angel sighed and leaned into his hands slightly.

"I want to look on the bright side, believe me. But I've been looking on the bright side my whole life and my eyes are tired." It was a bad joke, but Collins chuckled anyway. Angel smiled and shook his hands off, falling backwards until she was lying down with her head in his lap. Collins brushed his thumb over her temple.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "Mimi will be okay."

"I know," Angel whispered back. Then after a pause, she said softly, "I love you."

He leaned down and gave her a small, upside-down kiss. "I love you too, baby."


	24. Note

Okay, this is a quickie author's note. I know people hate these pseudo-posts, I definitely do. However, a few reviews I got made it CLEAR that I need to clarify a few things.

First of all: this is a fanfic, and though I strive for realism, it is based on a fictional story and I am only making my own plotline. I can't help displeasing some people, so please don't blame me for a stupid plot detail.

Second: another realism point. I am a student, and I do have a social life (strange though it may seem). Not to reveal too much, but I'm also a little too young to know much technical stuff or to do my own extensive research. I have checked facts for fanfics, but I do not rigidly adhere to every single detail about hospitals, trials, or pregnancies. I don't have that kind of knowledge or time. I am sincerely sorry if anything I write is offensive to anyone. I only want to write what comes up in my mind, and I'm sorry if it's not right.

Third: not a complaint, I just want to thank all you fabulous people who have stuck with me through this! I wrote the first two chapters of this fic and left it for dead; then someone reviewed and asked for an update, so I decided to give it a shot. I can't believe it's gone on this long! THANK YOU! I LURVE YOU ALL TO BITS!

Hokay. I am done. (gestures in a queenly way) You may continue with your lives.


	25. Defying Gravity

**A/N: **Not the last chapter...but close! Alas, my dears, we start to draw to a close! Yes, I cry (waaaaah) but I shall persevere! There is a lot unanswered at the end, and that will follow in the next chapter. Just read it and take it for what it is! Woohoo!

* * *

Mr. Grey was not like she remembered.

Mimi squinted at him from across the room. He looked like a respectable man; well-dressed, clean cut, peaceful. His face was lined and his hair was grayed. As he shuffled through the assorted pamphlets for outdated politicians that were clustered on the table outside the courtroom, she could see the muscles in his face relax. The flesh of his cheeks sagged, and his eyebrows flattened wearily. He was old; there was no denying it. He had a child and a wife. He had a job. He was a person.

And it came back to her; the darkness of the Cat Scratch, the thickness of smoke and sex floating in the air, images sliding back and forth across her eyes…a leering face, eyes bright with alcohol, and hands, hands clutching a wad of money…and then there was no money but pain, nothing but a futile struggling against hands that were strong, and Mimi couldn't breathe for the pressure on her throat…

"Mimi, there you are!" A hand came from nowhere and grasped her shoulder. Mimi shrieked and pushed it away wildly, whirling to see a stunned Maureen behind her. For a moment, Maureen's familiar face flickered like a bad TV picture; a trusted, loved face weaving with the one that haunted her dreams. Mimi's stomach turned over, and she suddenly realized that she was breathing as though she'd just run a marathon.

"What? What is it?" Mimi said, trying to catch her breath. Maureen's eyes were huge and she was leaning slightly away from Mimi, as though to avoid any sudden blows. She obviously hadn't meant to startle her friend, much less disturb her in the middle of a memory trip. Maureen didn't even know that she'd done that. Mimi felt a little twist of guilt in her chest.

"Nothing…I just wanted to say good luck. Are you okay?" Maureen asked warily. Mimi tried to calm her pounding heart as her eyes left Maureen and wandered over to Mr. Grey again. The memories cropped up again, and her face felt hot. He wasn't a person. He was a monster. And even if she lost this whole court thing, even if this crap chewed her up and spit her out, he was going to get what he coming. He wasn't walking away from her again.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," Mimi said, closing her eyes for a moment. Maureen raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly. She looked Mimi up and down in her court suit, body relaxing as she understood that Mimi wasn't planning to lunge at her.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well, are you ready?" Mimi took a deep breath and snapped her fingers; a nervous habit. Don't think about what happens in there. Just let yourself go and wait for it to meet you on the road.

"As ready as I can be."

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"C'mon, babe, slow down!"

"I can't! I'm just…I'm flying! I'm a bird! Birds can't be slow!" Mimi crowed, skipping ahead of Roger. He shook his head and hurried to catch up. People gave her strange looks as she twirled down the twilight-lit sidewalk, but Mimi couldn't care. She felt too light-headed, too above them all. All she could do was skim forward, leaping into the air like a ballet dancer. Roger laughed as he raced after her. She was still wearing her clothes from court, but she had let her hair down and it bounced joyously with her stride. The whole thing might have been a caricature in some magazine.

"Jesus, give me the chance to catch up with you!" he finally panted, catching her by the wrist and pulling her to him. Mimi grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Sure, baby. All the damn time you need. "

"God…you're definitely happier than a lot of people who lose court cases," he observed, running one hand through her hair. Mimi threw back her head and laughed like a maniac. It felt perfect, like the first sip of beer after that long, long week with your parents.

"I'm free, Roger. I'm fucking free, and guess what else?"

"What?"

"I got him. God, I got him so, so good…I think that I'll go back in time and steal Mark's camera so I can put the whole thing on tape. And then I'll watch it forever and ever just so I can have that for myself. It will be mine and I shall treasure it forever," Mimi said all in one breath. Roger shook his head in disbelief.

"Mimi, you're completely punch drunk."

"Hell yes!" she shouted as loud as she could. People glanced at them, but neither noticed. Roger just laughed and held her tighter.

"Well, if you go back time, take me with you. I'll rig that party in January so that Maureen gets drunk enough to fall off the bar counter." Mimi giggled and nodded.

"Okay…hey, Roger?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's go spray paint a car." That one made him pause for a minute.

"Um…spray paint?"

"Yup."

"A car?"

"Uh huh."

"In broad daylight?"

"Correct."

"Even though everyone at the Life is going to wonder where we are and possibly freak out?"

"That makes it even better," Mimi insisted, her hands brushing over his spiky blonde hair. She made her eyes get so big that a spacecraft might have spotted them from orbit, and one of her thighs snaked its way between his. But she needn't have bothered. Roger laughed out loud and shrugged happily.

"Mimi, whatever you're on right now, don't you dare get sober again." She shrieked with glee and hopped up to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her back, but it was a little difficult; they were both laughing too hard.

More than a month ago, Mimi had been desperate and depressed, the victim of both a rape and a beating. She couldn't bear to touch even the people she loved, and she wasn't sure whether her life would ever become bearable again. Every night, she dreamed of what had happened. Most importantly, her spirit dreamed of it. Her spirit limped, staggered, slipped and slid on the instability of her happiness.

And now, for the first time in so, so long, it was rearing its head and finding purchase on the ground it stood upon. Mimi had always been fiery and strong, certain of at least something. That certainty had been damaged, but its repair had flourished. She was coming alive again.

And no matter what, nobody could bring her down. Not Mr. Grey, not Benny, nobody. She was flying high, and nobody could bring her down.

* * *

Mimi sounds like she's DEYFING GRAVITY, don't she? (nudge nudge, wink wink) 


	26. Hangover From Hell

**A/N:** Hey, all! I know that I haven't updated in AGES, and I am so sorry. But with exams and all that crap, I've barely had any time. In a week or two, I'll be heading off on a three-week-cross-country-sojourn (whoopee), so I will be pretty much unavailable for comment. I'll try to update a little more before that, but sadly no promises. Hope you all like this, though!

* * *

Mimi had been high on pot before. She had also been drunk before. She was quite familiar with the headaches that followed each state.

So it shouldn't have surprised her that the combined after-effect of both pot and copious amounts of beer was comparable to having holes drilled in your skull with a corkscrew.

Luckily, she'd waited for Roger to sober up enough to drag her home before passing out. It would have been a lot worse to wake up with that kind of hangover in some bar than in her own bed in her own apartment. Still, the pain set in almost immediately after she regained consciousness. It was not, shall we say, pleasant.

"Chica…you're awake? Well, of course you are, because you weren't making those noises until a minute ago," Angel observed, shifting around on her chair beside Mimi's bed. Mimi continued to make "those noises" (which sounded like some kind of wounded canine) and curled up under her sheets, eyes watering even through squeezed-shut lids. Angel smiled and patted her hip. Mimi squealed a little louder and shifted towards the sympathetic touch.

"Can you talk?" Angel asked gently. Mimi made a strangled attempt at, "Uh-uh." Angel nodded and started rubbing Mimi's back, her hands curving over her friend's pronounced shoulder blades. Mimi shuddered and tried to let the backrub take away some of the pain that was pulsing behind both eyes. It hurt so much that she wasn't sure whether she could keep from passing out again. Angel seemed to sense this and rubbed harder.

"Well, if you can't talk, I will. First of all, Roger's all right. Mark and Collins are pouring coffee down his throat as we speak, so he'll be fine. Apparently, he had a rare spurt of common sense and decided not to get high as well as drunk, so he's only half as hung-over as you are. As for you, young lady…I know you're not exactly the queen of great decisions under stress, but do you want to tell me what possessed you back in that courtroom?" Angel asked, raising an eyebrow despite the fact that Mimi was buried under blankets and couldn't have seen the facial expression.

"Courtroom…what the hell…" Mimi moaned, her eyes still watering in pain. Angel sighed and rolled her eyes. Then, lithe as a cat, she got up and padded around Mimi on the bed, finally lying down neatly between the wall and the bundle of blankets that was her best friend. Mimi squeaked at the shift in weight, but she was too overwhelmed by pain to do much. Angel slowly drew the sheet back until she could see a few brown tufts of hair, and then back even farther to reveal all of Mimi's curls, spilling messily across the pillow. Angel began running her fingers through Mimi's hair, her hands tenderly combing out the knots and smoothing it down. It was intensely relaxing, and Mimi's breathing soon fell into the pattern of Angel's strokes through her hair. The pain pulsed with the rhythm too, and noticeably more bearable. At least until Angel started talking again.

"We were all so confused, chica…the judge ruled that there was no real evidence against Mr. Grey and the case was dismissed and you just…you looked happy. Really happy. Maureen decided you'd snapped…I told her that if you were capable of snapping, you'd have done so years ago," Angel said, laughing a little. Mimi's only response was to inch forward until her knee bumped against Angel's thigh. Angel smiled and kept running her fingers through the soft brown curls, lovingly caressing each separate strand.

"And then afterwards, when you ran outside, we nearly knocked each other trying to follow you. But you beat us to him, honey…you really did. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Did you really do what I think you did?" she asked. Mimi made a low humming noise and lifted her head for the first time. Eyes clamped shut against any and all painful, she looked towards where she supposed Angel was. She wasn't that far off.

"Mm-hmm. Bastard…got what he deserved…I was proud of myself…" she mumbled, letting her head fall back to the comfort of the soft blankets. Angel chuckled and rubbed the soft velvety ridge of Mimi's ear with her thumb, like she used to do when they lived together and Mimi had nightmares in the middle of the night. Mimi, soothed by the touch, let out a little sigh as the ache in her head receded a bit more. It was by no means gone, but at least it wasn't completely incapacitating her now.

"Wonder how Benny feels?" Angel mused, realizing too late the touchiness of the subject. Mimi just shrugged, though, and then lay still. Angel, taking this as consent for her to further pursue her train of thought, continued to speak aloud.

"I mean, he was the one who convinced you—well, us—to sue Mr. Grey in the first place. Then again, his little stick-figure of a wife looked like she wanted to hug her daddy and tear your head off at the same time, so he couldn't have been totally unhappy. Oh, I don't know…oh, hey, Mo." Her last words were directed at Maureen, who just then poked her head through the doorway.

"Hey, Angel…Mimi still conked out?" Maureen asked loudly, coming inside. Mimi groaned and burrowed deeper into her sheets as Maureen's voice pierced her skull. Angel shot Maureen a look, then carefully climbed over Mimi to greet Maureen with a one-armed hug.

"How's it going up there?" she asked. Maureen shrugged and tossed her hair over one shoulder.

"Okay. Roger won't shut up about his hangover, which means he'll be all right in another hour. Collins and Mark are still laughing their asses off at him, and Pookie—sorry, Joanne is making more coffee. Will Mimi be wanting any?"

"Murrgh. Coffeeeee," Mimi moaned, bunching a handful of blanket in one fist. Angel shrugged at Maureen, who giggled.

"I guess that's a yes."

"No shit," Angel observed, shaking her head at the quivering Mimi. She sighed and ran a hand through her wig, which she still had on from yesterday. Maureen leaned her cheek on Angel's shoulder, twisting her arm around Angel's elbow. Angel turned her head and chucked Maureen on the forehead with her chin.

"She looks so cute when she's helplessly hung-over…" Maureen said fondly, gazing at Mimi. Angel rolled her eyes.

"Of course she does, Maureen. Of course."


	27. Fire Escape Talks

**a/n: **well, it's an update...of sorts. it's sort of weird and i am So sorry, i'm just...ergh. doing my best. updates are probably coming for my other stories too, but they may take a while. i love you fuys to death for sticking with me and being so nice, THANK YOU.

* * *

"And everyone said drama was _my _specialty…" Maureen laughed, brushing her hair back from her face. Mimi grinned and dangled one foot over the railing of the fire escape. Maureen stiffened as Mimi swayed back and forth on her perch for a moment, then relaxed and rolled her eyes as she stabilized.

"Jesus, can't you get off that thing? I keep having these nightmare visions of you falling off and cracking your skull open on the ground…"

"I have good balance, my skull is as of yet intact," Mimi replied calmly, closing her eyes and leaning back against the metal stairs. Maureen sighed and took a drag on her cigarette. She held the smoke in for a moment and then released it, watching as it curled up through the wrought-iron bars of the fire escape and towards the sky.

"So…Benny called yet?" Maureen asked tentatively. Mimi smiled slightly and stretched out a lazy hand to wave away the last of the cigarette smoke.

"Yeah, but I just let him ring himself out. The guy left about twelve messages before he got _the _message and stopped calling. God…I'm just glad that it's all over. No more lawsuit, no more ridiculous legal crap and acting like I'm someone other than me." Mimi shook back her curls. "I'm a stripper from the Village who doesn't have the money or the morals to deal with the legal system and I accept it, I love it; I never wanted to act like some snotty little Uptown girl who sues at the first broken nail."

"Well…what happened to you wasn't exactly a broken nail," Maureen pointed out. When Mimi ignored this comment, Maureen took another drag of her cigarette and let the smoke gush out through her nostrils.

"Um…" Maureen, uncomfortable with long silences, cast around for another topic. "When did Angel leave?"

"Half an hour ago…I practically had to threaten her with a razor blade. I think it was mentioning how lonely Collins was going to be that got her to go, though," Mimi giggled. Maureen grinned and twiddled the cigarette between her fingers.

"Even Angel can't pass up a really great opportunity to get laid; especially after these last few weeks. I mean…Mimi, you know what this has all been like for her?" Maureen said somewhat hesitantly. Mimi refused to meet her eye.

"It wasn't any worse for her than it was for me. Nowhere near."

"I didn't say that," soothed Maureen. "But she's made it her life's mission to help you with everything she can since this happened. You would've had it a lot worse if she wasn't there—"

"If this is what you stayed with me to say, then leave," Mimi suddenly snapped. Maureen fell silent. For a little while, the only sounds between them were the slight whistle as Maureen exhaled smoke and the soft clang of Mimi's heel as it swung back and forth, bumping on the fire escape railings. Then Maureen shrugged and stood up, walking over to the stairs and hoisting herself up onto a waist-high step. Throwing her cigarette over the edge, she ran a hand through her hair and glanced up at the roof of the building.

"So what's next?" she asked softly, her eyes still focused upwards. Mimi seemed not to have heard her. But just as Maureen opened her mouth to ask again, Mimi spoke.

"What do you think? I keep going…a broken arm, an abortion, and a lawsuit older, but I keep going." She glanced over at Maureen, who tentatively looked down and met her gaze. Mimi's large brown eyes were not the same ones that had once rested in her smooth brown face. They were harder or softer, it wasn't easy to tell. But whatever they were, they were different.

"Like I said…I'm not going to pretend I'm better than I am," Mimi went on, her voice somewhat hoarse. "I just…want it to be done. I want to be able to act like it never happened, and even though Angel might call that stupid and tell me I have to forget regret or some other Life Support mantra, I can't care anymore. I want it to be over."

Maureen cocked her head to the side slightly as she listened to Mimi. Her brow was furrowed slightly. After a moment, she hesitantly spoke.

"Mimi, it's not going to be over until you decide it is. But how can you make yourself do that?"

Mimi didn't look as though she understood what Maureen was saying. Maureen herself wasn't sure if she did. But she felt, even though she didn't know, that it was a question that needed answering.


End file.
